


Things We Lost in the Fire

by movementinthedark



Series: Death and Taxes [2]
Category: Red Eye (2005)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, F/M, Family, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-10-07 06:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10354371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/movementinthedark/pseuds/movementinthedark
Summary: It has been five years since the events of Death and Taxes. Kaylie has settled into a new life and, for Jackson, it’s business as usual. When an old friend returns with some unexpected news and a new target makes things personal, they will both be forced to evaluate where their priorities truly lie.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally!! The sequel to Death and Taxes is written and ready for posting. Thanks for your patience and sorry it took so long, it was more of a challenge to write than I’d initially anticipated.
> 
> A few brief notes:
> 
> If you haven’t read Death and Taxes, this will make a lot more sense if you read that first.
> 
> As with that fic, this one is complete. I will be posting 1-2 chapters per week.
> 
> I do not own anything related to Red Eye. I’m merely taking the characters out for a spin.

_“Okay, so is this personal now?”_

_“Just finishing the job.”_

_-Lisa Reisert & Jackson Rippner_

 

_Wednesday, May 25. London._

It was a cold, dreary day in London, and the rain pattered against the windows of the cozy café. The two men were seated at a table in the back, words exchanged quietly over their respective beverages. One drank his customary Irish Breakfast Tea, with a bit of milk; the other, a steaming cup of coffee. 

“So what can I do for you?” The tea-drinker inquired.

“We have a situation,” the other began, with just a hint of an accent. “One that requires going outside of the…usual channels.” He grimaced slightly. “I realize this is highly irregular, but my sources tell me that you are the man to ask.”

“Go on.”

“Does the name René Lutz mean anything to you?”

The tea-drinker’s eyes widened, though his expression remained otherwise neutral. “Yes.”

“I presume you know of his reputation?” At his companion’s nod, the coffee-drinker continued. “He has just arrived in Berlin. Which would not be particular cause for concern, except that a new military attaché has recently been posted to our embassy there. One who has history with Lutz.”

“What kind of history?”

“They served in our military together as young men. They were both excellent soldiers, but also competitors. An unfortunate incident occurred between them that effectively ended Lutz’s military career.”

“You believe Lutz is holding a grudge,” the tea-drinker realized. “And that he may try something in Berlin?”

“Yes,” his companion agreed.

“But why now? This…incident must have occurred many years ago, and they have presumably both been in Switzerland for at least some of the time since then. If Lutz was going to act, why wait?”

The coffee-drinker sighed. “That is a good question, but there is one more piece to the puzzle. There is a German by the name of Tobias Kohler who has worked in our Berlin embassy for a number of years. Prior to that, he lived for several years in Bern, where he worked for a company that also employed René Lutz.”

The other considered this. “So Lutz has arrived in Berlin, on the heels of the new military attaché, and there is the possibility that he has a contact inside the embassy.”

“A contact that has direct access to Major General Häberlin.”

The tea-drinker frowned. “It could be a coincidence.”

“It could be,” his companion allowed. “But I would like to make absolute certain.”

The other nodded. “I assume you have already dismissed the idea of questioning this Mr. Kohler, for fear that – should he be involved – he might tip off Lutz.”

“Precisely.”

“So what is it you are asking me to do?”

The Swiss man took a long sip of coffee. “Find out if Lutz and Kohler are in communication and what – if anything – Lutz is planning. If you find anything, we’ll then handle it through official channels.” He gave off another sigh. “As you said, we are wary of questioning Kohler before we have something concrete, but it would be inappropriate for the Swiss government to investigate a private German citizen on German soil without opening an official enquiry. So that is where you come in.”

“For an off-the-books investigation.”

“Yes. Will that be a problem?”

“No.” The tea-drinker gave a wry smile. “Off-the-books is my M.O. I assume I’d be appropriately compensated?”

“Of course. I’d be happy to discuss the details. Though I feel I should warn you, this may be a challenging endeavor.”

“Ah, but I have just the man in mind,” the other explained with a smirk.

“Rippner.”

The tea-drinker looked impressed. “You _have_ done your research.”

The Swiss man smiled. “Yes. His reputation precedes him, not unlike yours.”

“Jackson is very good at what he does, and he’s always liked a bit of a challenge.” Alex smiled. “I’ll phone him tonight and let you know if he agrees?” He extended a hand, which the other firmly grasped.

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

 

\------------

 

_Thursday, June 2. New York._

Jackson leaned back in his chair, skimming the pages spread across his desk. There was a brief profile of Major General Daniel Häberlin, the recently appointed military attaché to the Swiss embassy in Berlin. Next to that was an investigation report from the Swiss Armed Forces concerning a violent incident that had occurred between two of its soldiers – the now decorated Häberlin and the disgraced René Lutz - nearly two decades ago. Then there was the Berlin embassy’s dossier on Tobias Kohler, an unassuming man who had been nothing but excellent at his job in the seven years he had held it. And, finally, a collection of notes on the recent activities and whereabouts of Lutz, the included details provided by a few of Alex and Jackson’s many contacts.

Jackson knew René Lutz by reputation, though the two men had never met. His ungraceful exit from the military establishment aside, Lutz had been an impressive soldier and – over the past decade – had put those skills to use in a rather-less-government-sanctioned manner. He had built a reputation as a reliable killer-for-hire, not quite as invisible to the authorities as, say, Jackson, but nonetheless very good at not getting caught. The Swiss government clearly knew about Lutz, even if they hadn’t managed to obtain any evidence to pin on him, whereas Jackson knew for certain that his and Alex’s names were not floating around in any Interpol files. No, in order to find them, Alex’s Swiss contact had gone down a dark, unofficial, rabbit hole indeed.

Jackson’s phone vibrated against the desk, distracting him from the papers in front of him and his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and opened the incoming email, skimming the updated flight schedule that had been forwarded by his new _assistant_ , for lack of a better word. Kaylie. The terrified teenager he’d once – _twice_ – kidnapped out of her own house was now working for him. Well, technically she worked for Alex, but Jackson had borrowed her for the duration of this job. The tight timeline and potential need to go undercover had necessitated someone else to handle administration functions. Like booking flights.

After double-checking the departure time for his flight to London the following day, Jackson turned his attention back to the documents on his desk. René Lutz was based in his native Switzerland, though he traveled a great deal. From the information Jackson had gathered, it didn’t appear that he had been to Berlin in some time prior to his current visit. There was no evidence that he was working any job there now, although that certainly didn’t mean he wasn’t. If he _had_ traveled to Berlin with the intent of enacting revenge on Häberlin, he was clearly still harboring a considerable grudge, and one nearly twenty years old. It was that kind of personal, emotional involvement that led to mistakes and that made things unnecessarily messy. The kind of emotional involvement Jackson preferred to avoid. In this case, however, he hoped that Lutz was motivated by personal reasons that would undoubtedly cloud his judgment. It would make Jackson’s job a hell of a lot easier.

 

\------------ 

 

_An hour later. London._

Kaylie opened the door of the coffee shop, the bell clanking lightly overhead. She spotted him immediately, but first joined the queue at the counter. A few minutes later, coffee in hand, she crossed the room to the small table occupied by a dark haired man about ten years older than she. As she sank into the empty chair opposite his, he looked up at her and grinned.

“Alright, Kaylie?” His crisp London accent was one she had become quite familiar with after nearly five years in the city.

Kaylie smiled back. “Hey, Max. Yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Good, good. Keeping busy.” He adjusted his glasses and shuffled the papers in front of him, nudging them slightly closer to Kaylie’s side of the table. “How is Alex?”

“He’s fine.” Kaylie affirmed. “I saw him for dinner last night.”

“Feels like it’s been ages since I’ve seen him last,” Max confessed. “Tell him I say hello, won’t you?”

Kaylie smiled. “Of course.” From the corner of her eye, she spotted the small manila envelope poking out from Max’s pile of papers and deftly pulled it free and slid it into her bag without glancing down. “And thank you.”

“No worries,” Max nodded. “Glad to help.”

“Mary will be in touch about payment-“ She started, referring to the middle-aged Irish woman who managed Alex’s administrative and financial affairs.

Max waved her off. “I’m not worried. I know Alex is good for it."

“He’s a man of his word,” Kaylie agreed.

“How has it been working for the American contingent?” Max asked then, causing Kaylie to chuckle.

“He’s hardly a contingent.” Kaylie had found working directly for Jackson somewhat less frustrating than she’d anticipated. Sure, he had the tendency to drive her up the wall, but he hadn’t been particularly unreasonable. Maybe it helped that he was across the ocean. “But it’s actually been fine.”

“Give him my best.”

Kaylie rolled her eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

Max snorted. “That’ll be the day.” Jackson had made no effort to disguise his dislike for the young Englishman. Kaylie suspected she liked Max for the exact reason Jackson did not – he was very chipper and extremely talkative when the mood struck. But she knew, as did Max, that Jackson’s animosity was all bark and no bite, for the one simple reason that Max was a flawless forger.

Kaylie finished her coffee. “I should probably be going.”

Max nodded and grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Lots to do before his highness rolls into town.”

Kaylie shot him a mock glare. “Stop it. You’re as bad as he is.” She rolled her eyes, though it wasn’t entirely effective through her laughter. “Seriously, you’d think you were both twelve, not thirty-something.”

Max chuckled. “Sorry, only kidding. You should be all set, but let me know if you need anything else. And good luck.”

“Thanks,” Kaylie shot him a genuine smile as she hopped to her feet. “I’ll see you around.”

 

\------------

 

_Saturday, June 4._

Sunlight streamed through her bedroom window as Kaylie opened her eyes, stretching contentedly. It was finally sunny in London, she didn’t have anywhere to be until later today and there was already coffee brewing… Wait. _What the fuck?_ She was on her feet almost before she had the thought, straining to hear any sounds from the kitchen. The gentle clink of china against counter reached her ears and, as her sleepy brain put two and two together, she groaned inwardly.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she padded into the kitchen in her pajama pants and t-shirt. Jackson was leaning against her counter, casually dressed – for once – in jeans and a button down and nursing a cup of coffee. He lifted a second mug as she came in, holding it out as a peace offering. Well, maybe it would’ve been a peace offering if he had wiped that damn smirk off of his face.

“Coffee?”

“How’d you get in here?” Kaylie questioned, taking the outstretched mug and plopping on to a kitchen chair.

“With a key.” He settled in the chair across from her, still smirking.

“I didn’t give you a key.” It really was too early in the morning for verbal sparring.

“No.” Jackson leaned back in his chair. “You didn’t.”

Kaylie glared. “And this couldn’t wait until I was, oh you know, awake and dressed?”

He feigned a pout. “Kaylie, I’m hurt. I thought you would’ve missed me.”

“Terribly,” she quipped.

“I even made you coffee,” he continued, flashing her a smile and lifting his mug in evidence. Kaylie took a long, fortifying drink from her own cup.

“Next time, how about you make coffee _after_ you’ve knocked and been invited in?”

Jackson just shrugged. He was smirking again.

“Jackson.” Kaylie waited until his eyes were on hers before continuing. “I could’ve had someone here.” She was mildly entertained by the way his eyes momentarily widened. It was not often that she managed to surprise him and, while she hadn’t said it with the express purpose of doing so, it was an excellent side effect.

“Do you?” For a second she thought he might get up and… do what exactly, she wasn’t quite sure. He remained in his seat, however, staring at her intently.

“No,” she laughed. “But if I did, it wouldn’t be any of your business.” Truth be told, Kaylie had found dating post-university a bit of a challenge. It was hard to get to know people when you had to keep your entire profession a secret. When Jackson responded only by narrowing his eyes at her, Kaylie pressed on. “You stayed with Alex last night?”

“Yep.” He took another sip of coffee. “Berlin tomorrow, but then you know that.”

Kaylie knew his entire flight schedule inside and out, she’d booked all of it. She got to her feet and crossed into the living room, retrieving a manila envelope from her desk. “You’ll be needing this then,” she said, as she stepped back into the small kitchen.

“It’s what I’m here for.”

“And here I thought _you_ missed _me,_ ” Kaylie retorted, passing him the envelope. “With compliments from Maxwell Andersen.”

Jackson snorted. “I have no idea what you see in that guy.”

“You make it sound like I’m dating him,” Kaylie replied, watching as Jackson unfastened the envelope flap and dumped the contents on the table.

He scrutinized the French passport and driver’s license, looking for any error or indication of the fake that it was. After a moment, he glanced up at her and nodded. “Looks good.”

“So what’s the plan when you get to Berlin?”

Jackson eyed her for a moment, as though debating whether or not to tell her. Kaylie stared at him expectantly. As far as she was concerned, her efforts on his behalf justified knowing at least _something_ of what was going on. “Follow Kohler and see if he makes contact with Lutz, while also working on tracking down Lutz through separate channels.”

“Do you think Kohler’s really involved?” Kaylie wondered. “I mean, why would he risk his job to help a guy he worked with a decade ago?”

“He might not be,” Jackson acknowledged. “But if Lutz is after Häberlin, it makes sense that he’d capitalize on his relationships with anyone in a position to help…and that means Kohler.”

Kaylie considered this. “Do you and Alex often take jobs from governments?” She thought Jackson might be trying to hide a smile at her question, but it was gone before she could be certain.

“Not often,” he replied. “But this isn’t the first time.” He tipped his head to the side, looking at her slyly. “What’s most unusual about this is that we’ve been hired to _prevent_ whatever Lutz is attempting. Usually we’re the ones planning it.”

Kaylie wrinkled her nose at that. In the five years she’d known them, she had come to like and respect both Alex and Jackson, and she had mostly made her peace what they did for a living. Enough to voluntarily agree to work for Alex when he’d put the offer on the table. However, she couldn’t deny that the realities of some of their work left a bit of an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

Jackson smirked. “You asked.” He fished his phone from his pocket, turning his attention away from Kaylie to something on the screen.

“I’m going to get dressed,” Kaylie announced, not entirely sure if he was even listening. At the doorway, she paused and glanced back to find him still focused on his phone. “Hey, if you’re going to hang out in my kitchen, you want to make me breakfast?”

Jackson looked up. She shot him an innocent grin, and he rolled his eyes. “Absolutely not.”


	2. Chapter 2

_“Most days it is my own business. But right now, as fate would have it, my business is all about you.”_

_-Jackson Rippner_

 

_Thursday, June 16. Berlin._

Jackson sat at the bar, slowly sipping a glass of red wine while evaluating his surroundings. After nearly two weeks of following Tobias Kohler back and forth between his apartment and the Embassy, this was a nice change of scenery – and activity. Jackson had lately been spending a lot of time in a large park near the Schweizerische Botschaft. Kohler, like many employees of the Embassy and other neighboring buildings, frequently took his lunch break outside. Grateful for the string of warm, sunny days that both ensured a sizeable crowd in the park and made his own hours spent waiting outside more bearable, Jackson had found a perfect vantage point from which he could spot Kohler as he exited the building and then casually fall into step behind him.

Surveillance was one of Jackson’s earliest developed skills when he had begun working with Alex, and it was one he had down to perfection. He had followed Lisa for eight weeks and still she hadn’t remotely recognized him when they first met at the airport. Two weeks into tailing Kohler, he was entirely confident that the other man had no idea he was being watched. It helped that the park was full of businessmen, and Jackson could blend into that crowd without even trying. On his first full day on the job, he had identified Kohler as he left the Embassy and tailed the other man on his drive home. Knowing where the German lived gave Jackson two locations from which to watch him. Jackson couldn’t get past Embassy security without credentials he didn’t currently possess, and even spending too much time in the lobby had the potential to arouse suspicion. So it was lunchtimes in the park, and evenings at Kohler’s apartment building a short drive away in Mitte. Jackson had quickly identified the major hurdle to watching Kohler at his apartment; the building did not have security, but it did seem to have residents who generally recognized one another. Needing a way to get closer, he had decided it was time for a change in tactic.

Jackson had learned to trust his instincts, and they were telling him that Kohler was somehow involved in whatever Lutz was planning. The man seemed to be on edge, and checked his phone with a frequency that definitely classed it as unusual behavior. So far, however, Kohler had not said or done anything that could confirm Jackson’s suspicions. To be fair, it had been less than two weeks and, even if Kohler was involved, it was absolutely certain that the two men wouldn’t be in constant communication. Jackson’s efforts at otherwise tracking down Lutz had not yet yielded much promise – he had picked up on some chatter to confirm that Lutz was definitely in Berlin, but hadn’t been able to find out where he might be staying or what he was up to. And Jackson was wary of relying too heavily on his local contacts for information. He and Lutz traveled in not-so-different circles, and he didn’t want to risk that word of his inquiries might get back to the other man. Kohler was far easier to investigate, particularly because he had no reason to expect that anyone might be watching, but it would all come to nothing if he _knew_ nothing.

Jackson glanced up as the door opened, hiding his satisfied smile when he saw who had entered. _Right on time_. The blond-haired woman crossed to the bar and took the stool two away from where he sat. He heard the bartender greet her by name and watched from the corner of his eye as a drink was placed before her on the bar. A regular. But then, Jackson knew that. The woman sitting mere feet from him lived in the same building as Kohler, one floor up. He had watched her come and go for several days before he’d followed her. This bar, around the corner from the hospital where she worked, was her local. She stopped by most nights on her way home; he was glad she hadn’t disappointed tonight.

Jackson glanced along the bar, catching her eye and offering a smile. She smiled back. “Long day?” He inquired in German, nodding at her glass of wine, already half gone.

She chuckled and nodded. “The longest.” She tipped her head to the side. “I haven’t seen you in here before.”

“First time.”

“Ah.” She smiled. “You’re French?”

Jackson inclined his head. “Oui.” He indicated the seats between them, switching back to German. “May I?” At her nod, he shifted over to the stool next to hers and offered his hand. “Alain.”

She shook his hand firmly and offered a warm smile. “Annika.”

“It’s a pleasure, Annika.”

“Likewise.” She took another sip of wine. “So what brings you to Berlin?”

“Research,” he replied easily, sipping at his own glass. “At the Staatsbibliothek. I’m researching Franco-German relations for a possible book.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, fascinating,” she exclaimed, and he could tell she meant it. “You’re a historian?”

“Journalist, by trade.” He explained. “Currently on sabbatical.”

While he had not anticipated the potentially fortuitous situation that he presently found himself in, Jackson had expected a possible need to go undercover. Thus, he had left London not as Jackson Rippner, but as Alain Durand. His younger years in Paris and affinity for languages allowed him to speak French like a native, more than could be said for his – albeit very good – German. German with a hint of French accent was requiring a bit more effort, but apparently it was working.

“I’d love to hear about your research,” Annika was saying. “What drew you to the subject?”

“I lived in Kaiserslautern for several years as a child,” Jackson explained. That was, in fact, true. The best lies were those with some elements of truth in them. “So I suppose I’ve always had an attachment to both countries, and an interest in the relationship between them.”

“That explains why your German is so good,” Annika replied, with a wry smile. “My French is abysmal.”

Jackson smiled. “And what is it that you do?”

“I’m a doctor,” she replied. “A cardiologist.”

“Wow.” Jackson made sure to look suitably impressed. He was turning on the charm, after all. “Far more important work than what I do, to be sure.”

Annika smiled and blushed faintly.

“Annika.” Jackson leaned ever so slightly closer. “Can I get you another drink?”

 

\------------ 

 

_Saturday, June 25. London._

“Sounds like Jackson is making progress in Berlin,” Alex commented, setting the last dish on the table and taking a seat opposite Kaylie.

“I think so,” Kaylie nodded, reaching for the nearest serving bowl.

“Hopefully Kohler will soon make contact with Lutz,” he continued. “And give Jackson the opportunity to get the proof we need.”

“Jackson seems pretty confident that Kohler is involved,” Kaylie commented.

“Yes.” Alex smiled. “And, at this point, I’ve learned to trust his instincts about this sort of thing.”

“I just don’t get why Kohler would do it,” Kaylie confessed. “I know it doesn’t really matter, but it seems an awful lot of risk to take on.”

“It is,” Alex agreed. “We can only assume that whatever payment or deal he was offered has made it worth his while.” He smirked. “Up until now, anyway.”

“Do you know anything about Lutz?”

“I’m familiar with his reputation,” Alex explained. “Never met the man in person. He’s made a good name for himself as a killer-for-hire.”

“You’ve never thought about contracting with him?” Kaylie wondered.

Alex smiled. “No. Lutz tends to work directly with his clients, and I already had my own contacts in his area of expertise before he came on the scene.” He frowned then. “If he really is going after an old enemy for revenge, you can definitely believe I won’t ever be considering working with him in the future.”

Kaylie hid a smile by taking a sip of wine. For all the unsavory business he was involved in, Alex was a man who stuck to his principles. “Twenty years is a long time to hold a grudge,” she offered.

Alex nodded, waiting until he’d finished chewing to speak. “Indeed it is. And, with any luck, we’ll hopefully soon know what he’s planning. It’ll be easier for Jackson to keep tabs on Kohler, too, now that he’s installed himself in Kohler’s building.”

Kaylie’s brow furrowed. “He’s what now?”

“Jackson’s managed to get himself involved with a woman who lives upstairs from Kohler, thus giving him a cover for being in the building.”

Kaylie was still stuck on the first part of his sentence. “Involved? Like, involved-involved?”

Alex looked up from pouring more wine with a slight smirk. “Yep.”

Kaylie shook her head. “I don’t think I could ever do that,” she admitted. “To be with someone for a job, even briefly, without any real emotional connection.”

“Between you and me, Kaylie,” Alex replied, still smirking. “I think Jackson finds it easier to be involved with someone when there _isn’t_ an emotional connection.”

Kaylie thought of Lisa Reisert. Talking to Jackson about his feelings for Lisa was like trying to provoke a reaction from a brick wall. “Yeah, I can see that.” She rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised he didn’t tell me about this? He doesn’t tell me anything.” Her communications with Jackson since he’d left for Berlin had thus far consisted of requests for more information on his undercover alter ego’s research project and a confirmation that he was indeed getting closer to Kohler. He just hadn’t mentioned how.

Alex laughed, appearing only further amused when Kaylie scowled at him. “You’ll have to forgive him, Kaylie, he’s not really accustomed to working with a team. And he is undercover, which necessitates discretion in sharing any information.”

Kaylie snorted. “I know. And it’s not like he views me as anything other than a kid, anyway. But it’s easier for me to be useful if I know what’s happening.”

Alex smiled sympathetically. “Well, you heard it from me, you have been _most_ useful.” Kaylie smiled in thanks. “And it might interest you to know that Jackson told me that I had better be prepared to let him borrow you again in the future.”

Kaylie’s eyes widened. “He said that?” That was high praise coming from one Jackson Rippner, and she knew it.

Alex nodded. “He did.”

Kaylie smiled. “That makes me feel a little bit better.”

 

\------------

 

_Wednesday, July 6. Berlin._

“Alain? Sind Sie hier?”

“Ja,” Jackson called in reply, closing down the files on his laptop and clicking shut the lid as Annika swept into her living room, long blond hair flying in all directions. He could tell by one glance that she’d had a long day at the hospital, although the smile gracing her features did a good job at hiding it.

“Gut.” She replied, turning in a swirl of coat to vanish once again from the room. She called behind her, still in German: “Wine?”

He didn’t need to answer, for she returned moments later with two glasses and an entire bottle – it really _had_ been a long day –, before settling beside him on the couch. They lapsed into easy conversation, mostly Annika recounting the trials and tribulations of her day at work. Jackson didn’t mind letting her do most of the talking. She had been entirely correct in her assertion that his German was better than her French, so German was the language of choice. She also spoke some English, but Jackson carefully avoided any real conversation in his native tongue, lest she realize it was exactly that.

“And how is the research coming today?” Annika asked then. She was most interested and attentive regarding his purported research project, making Jackson grateful that he had gone to the trouble of getting Kaylie to round up a considerable file on the subject, for exactly these sorts of conversations. He was easily able to rattle off some relevant information, sounding for all the world like a proper scholar. His actual day-to-day business was on another matter entirely.

At times, Jackson felt almost guilty for using her. She was smart, and kind, and didn’t deserve to be caught up in this mess. He was positive she was entirely unaware that her downstairs neighbor had potentially gotten himself involved with a hired killer. It was a combination of luck and his skill in manipulation that had Jackson going home with the gorgeous woman on the very night they’d met. And she _was_ gorgeous, even if this was all business. Their romance was of the hot and heavy variety, progressing rapidly to him spending most nights – and now days – in the doctor’s flat. She had even given him a key, telling him to use her home for quiet working space while she was at the hospital, far better than his hotel room, she said.

Annika knew that Alain’s time in Berlin was limited, Jackson mused, as she disappeared towards her bedroom, eyes on him until the last possible second, unbuttoning her shirt on the way. She knew that once his research was complete, he’d be gone, and she was completely at ease with their temporary fling. It really was an ideal situation. She’d probably never even know that his true motive for involving himself with her lie completely with the man residing downstairs. Jackson hopped to his feet, following her to the bedroom. Well, most of the motive, anyway. He was having a bit of fun, too. And that other mildly guilty feeling, accompanied by the occasional flashing memory of a petite brunette; well, that was probably best ignored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short-ish chapter, but things start to pick up a bit in chapter 3! And Lisa will be joining the fray before too long!


	3. Chapter 3

_“You’re not stalking me, are you?”_

_-Jackson Rippner_

 

_Tuesday, July 12. Berlin._

Jackson sat in a nondescript bar, nursing a beer and watching Tobias Kohler and René Lutz out of the corner of his eye. He had reached his first real break in the case, as it were, when he had overheard Kohler’s earlier cryptic phone call and subsequently followed him to this bar for what turned out to be a meeting with none other than René Lutz. It was certainly a validating feeling, that the Swiss government’s and Jackson’s own instincts had been right, but there was still a lot of work to do.

“When will you have the updated schedule?” Lutz was asking in German. He was studying some documents that Kohler had removed from his briefcase upon arrival.

“Tomorrow,” Kohler replied. “Ha- his assistant was making some changes this afternoon, and I was called into a meeting and did not have an opportunity to copy the files. I’ll get them tomorrow. I could bring them to you in the evening?”

“Thursday,” said Lutz. “Tomorrow won’t be possible. Get the documents tomorrow and keep them in your apartment until we can meet.” Kohler nodded, and Lutz scrutinized him carefully. “The new schedule will also be for the same two weeks?”

Kohler nodded. “Yes.”

“If there are any further changes to his schedule in that period, you must let me know immediately.”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Lutz smiled, but it was not a kind smile. “Everything is going according to plan and, soon, Häberlin will be another memorial plaque at the Foreign Service.”

It was difficult to tell from where Jackson was sitting, but he was pretty sure that Kohler went a shade or two paler than normal. “What?” The German hissed, and Jackson had to strain to hear. “I thought you were planning to discredit him? And end his career?”

“I do plan to end his career,” Lutz replied, sounding highly amused by this fact. “And also his life.”

This was the assumption Jackson had been working under, and he was quite pleased to be correct. He was a little amazed that Kohler hadn’t figured it out by now, but he supposed he had more experience in the brutality of this business than the German Embassy worker.

“But…” Kohler spluttered.

“Don’t tell me you object,” Lutz retorted. “You don’t even like the man.”

“Well, no,” Kohler admitted. “He’s an asshole. But…” He cast around as though searching for the right words. “This seems a bit extreme!”

“It’s no less than he deserves,” Lutz sneered. He leaned forward, invading Kohler’s personal space. “I _can_ count on you, can’t I?”

Kohler, looking rather uncomfortable, nodded.

“Good.” Lutz smiled. “All you have to do is bring me the updated schedule and keep me apprised of any further changes. That’s all. And it will all be over soon. You will do that, for me?”

“Of course.” Kohler whispered.

Jackson disappeared behind a newspaper as the two men parted ways and exited the bar, and then turned to his phone to pause the recording. He generally preferred to avoid the hassle, instead relying on his own eyes, ears and memory. In this case, however, he imagined the Swiss government might require more than his word to implicate Lutz and Kohler. The background noise of the bar meant it wouldn’t be perfect, but hopefully it would be enough. He stood and headed to the door, spotting the two men out on the sidewalk. Jackson slipped out into the darkness as they walked in opposite directions, fully intending to follow Lutz back to wherever he had ensconced himself while in Berlin. Finally, he at least had some proof. And proof that it was going to be about as messy as it could get.

 

\------------

 

_Later that night._

In a quiet hotel room in Berlin, a mobile phone rang. It’s owner, a man in his late forties, answered in German.

“Ja?”

“Rumor has it that Jackson Rippner is in Berlin,” the voice on the phone said, also in German. “And that he has been looking for you.”

“Why would he be looking for me?”

“I can’t say,” the voice admitted. “Shall I try to find out?”

 

\------------

 

_Thursday, July 14._  

Jackson had watched Tobias Kohler come and go from the building enough times to have a very good idea of the man’s schedule. Good enough to know that Kohler never came home for lunch, always did so before heading out for any evening activities, and that he had locked himself out of his flat on no fewer than three occasions in the past month. Good enough to stage a collision, as Jackson came down the stairs and the other man emerged from his flat.

“Excuse me!” They exclaimed almost simultaneously, bouncing apart, muttering further apologies.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Jackson said then, in German, extending a hand. “Alain Durand.”

“Tobias Kohler,” came the reply, as a firm hand grasped Jackson’s own. “Are you new to the building?” Kohler also spoke in German.

“I’m staying with Annika,” Jackson explained, nodding up the stairs.

“Ohh,” Kohler’s eyes widened marginally. “Lucky man.” He tilted his head. “But you are not from here. French, no?”

“Indeed,” Jackson replied.

“Where from?”

“Near Reims, originally.” The well-practiced lie came easily. “But Paris, these days.”

“Ah, a wonderful city,” Kohler exclaimed, and then glanced at his watch. “I must be off. Work beckons. It was a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur.”

“You as well,” Jackson replied, shaking the other man’s hand once again. Once Kohler had disappeared from view, Jackson opened his other hand. Grasped in his palm were Kohler’s keys, which he had lifted from the other man’s jacket pocket during their earlier collision. So as to keep up his ruse of leaving the building, just in case, Jackson pocketed the keys and headed out to the shops.

Thirty minutes later, Jackson returned to the building with a cup of coffee and a few groceries for Annika’s fridge. He quickly deposited everything in her flat, slipped off his shoes, and then quietly jogged back down the stairs to Kohler’s door, carefully watching and listening for anyone else about. The stairwell was silent. He fished the keys from his pocket and let himself into Kohler’s flat, all senses on high alert.

He’d correctly surmised there would be no alarm. Although the building was a nice one, it was older, and notably short of security cameras and other such precautions. One less hurdle to overcome. Once inside, Jackson pulled on a pair of gloves. Fingerprints on Kohler’s keys could be explained – though it would unlikely come to that, and not that Jackson’s prints would match anything anyway – but fingerprints inside the apartment were another matter.

He set the keys on Kohler’s kitchen table next to a folded newspaper and an empty coffee mug, for their owner to find later. It only took him a moment to locate the small office, in what had probably been initially designed as a second bedroom. A laptop dock and external monitor sat on the desk, next to a few files, but the laptop itself was absent. Kohler had likely taken it with him to work. Jackson gave the files on the desk a cursory glance, quickly dismissing them as personal in nature: mortgage statements, utility bills. He next tried the drawers: the first contained only a collection of office supplies, but it was the second where his efforts paid off.

An unmarked manila envelope sat at the bottom of the drawer and, when Jackson pulled out the contents, he found himself with a stack of photocopied documents, the originals of which clearly belonged to the Swiss Embassy. There were details on several personnel in the Office of the Military Attaché, a floor plan of that office suite, and a lengthy series of documents detailing Major General Häberlin’s comings and goings in late July and early August. The very top document was a copy of Häberlin’s schedule printed only the previous day, pen marks on the photocopy indicating changes from the previous version. This, then, was the document Kohler and Lutz had spoken of the other night, the one that Jackson had planned this entire expedition with the hope of finding. Everything else was a bonus. Jackson carefully photographed the documents one by one, then replaced them in the envelope and returned the envelope to its drawer. He thought the Embassy would find it most interesting that one of their employees was keeping copies of confidential documents in his apartment. Most interesting, indeed.

 

\------------ 

 

_That evening._

“I have the updated schedule.” Tobias Kohler said, as he settled onto the barstool. He retrieved a manila folder from his briefcase and set it on the table, looking expectantly at his companion.

“Excellent,” said René Lutz. “Your assistance has been most-“ He trailed off, noticing that the man opposite him was no longer meeting his eyes, but was staring at the photograph on the table between them.

“I know him.”

“What?” Lutz snapped. “How?”

“Well, I don’t really know him,” Kohler amended. “But I met him, just this morning, in my building. He’s been staying with my upstairs neighbor. He’s French.”

“He’s not French,” said Lutz, staring down at the photograph. It was a little blurry and a few years old, but he couldn’t imagine Jackson Rippner had changed all that much in that time. He’d never met the man in person, hadn’t known what he looked like until the photograph had reached him that morning. He sighed heavily. “Tobias, it appears we have a situation.”

 

\------------

 

_At the same time._

Jackson sat at the desk in his hotel room, laptop open, poring over Major General Häberlin’s schedule for what felt like the fiftieth time. Three changes had been made from the previous version of the schedule, two of which involved Häberlin leaving the Embassy for a meeting somewhere else. Those had been circled on Kohler’s photocopy. In fact, every time Häberlin was scheduled to leave the Embassy was circled on the photocopy. This fell in line with Jackson’s assumption that Lutz intended to commit the assassination outside of the Embassy. The building’s security would prove too great a hurdle, when he could simply pick the man off in the streets. Jackson knew that Lutz had some skills as a sniper. But Häberlin would have an entourage and security, hence the detailed schedule and information on the staff of the Military Attaché. Lutz was planning for every contingency. And he would want to have an escape plan.

Jackson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Years of involvement in similar operations meant that his brain was, quite by default, working out all of the ways this assassination could play out. But really, it didn’t matter, did it? The Swiss Foreign Service wanted proof of what Lutz was planning and that Kohler was involved. Jackson had that. And the evidence suggested that it might well be happening before the end of the month, with Häberlin’s first out-of-Embassy meeting less than two weeks away. So it was imperative that Jackson get this information to his contact as soon as possible.

He retrieved his phone. Seeing as he was in the glorious privacy of his own hotel and had the luxury of keeping his work cell phone on for the evening, he eschewed texting in favor of finding the right number and pressing call. Kaylie answered on the first ring.

“Hey.”

“I need a flight to Bern for tomorrow, and a hotel there. ”

“Tomorrow?” Kaylie sounded surprised.

“Yes. And, actually, one from Bern to New York on…” Jackson thought for a moment. “Tuesday."

“You have everything you need?”

Jackson tried to suppress the flare of irritation at the incredulity in her voice. “Yes,” he answered, a bit shortly. “And I need to meet with my Swiss contact as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” she replied, making him momentarily grateful that she had moved on from questions to cooperation. “I’ll book it now and send you the details.”

“Good.”

“Do you know when it’s going to happen?”

The question reached his ears just before Jackson could end the call. He rolled his eyes and briefly considered hanging up anyway. “Not precisely. But I’ve narrowed it down to three possible times in a period of two weeks, starting before the end of this month.”

“Wow,” Kaylie took a breath. “Okay.”

“All the more reason why I need a flight to Bern tomorrow,” he retorted, not even bothering to hide the condescension in his tone. “So go book it please.”

“I’m halfway done,” she fired back, in obvious irritation. “It’ll be in your inbox in less than five minutes.”

It was only after ending the call that it occurred to Jackson that he probably ought to have said thank you. Despite his initial reservations over Alex hiring the now-twenty-two-year-old, he had to acknowledge that Kaylie made a pretty good assistant – she was a hard worker, a particularly thorough researcher, and – at this point – was hardly ever phased by anything he said or did. Which meant she was probably not the least bit surprised that he hung up on her without a goodbye or a thank you.

He quickly composed a text – _I have the information you requested. Arriving in Bern tomorrow_. – and sent it off to his Swiss contact. He would deliver to them an audio file of Lutz and Kohler discussing the assassination, photographs of confidential documents found in Kohler’s flat, the location of Lutz’s hotel in Berlin, and three possible times-and-places for the whole operation to go down. As far as Jackson was concerned, his part was done.


	4. Chapter 4

_“Sometimes bad things happen to good people."_

_-Jackson Rippner_

 

_Saturday, July 16. Berlin._

At the ringing of his phone, René Lutz answered immediately. “What do you have for me?” He asked in German, barely masking the urgency he felt. 

“Not much, I’m afraid,” the caller replied. “Even for the incidents where we believe he was involved, there is no evidence, no eye-witness reports, nothing. Not even a fingerprint. We could only find one confirmed witness, from all the years he’s been active, and – even then – there is no evidence other than her written account.”

Lutz sighed. He had known it wouldn’t be easy. Ever since Tobias’ startling revelation two days prior, the previously airtight operation felt in danger of coming apart at the seams. “Who is this witness?”

“A Lisa Reisert. Of Miami, Florida.”

“What was the job?”

“The assassination – err, attempted assassination, of Charles Keefe.”

“Charles Keefe.” Lutz smiled, despite the dire situation. “Yes, I remember now. And this _Ms. Reisert_ is the only person to ever come forward with a statement against him?”

“That we could find, anyway.” The caller paused. “There’s something else.”

“Go on.”

“It’s not confirmed, but there’s a rumor that he later agreed to deliver Reisert to the guys who backed the Keefe job, as – I don’t know – payment or something, but then he turned on them instead.”

“Protecting her?”

“Possibly. As I said, it’s only a rumor. I took the liberty of calling her hotel in Miami. She still works there, but is currently at a conference in New York.”

“Hm.” Lutz mulled this over for a moment. “How did you fare with the public records?”

“About the same. Jackson Rippner was born in 1976 in Marion, Indiana to Thomas and Elise Rippner. No siblings. Thomas died in 1988. Elise Rippner currently resides in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.”

“And?”

“And that’s it.”

“That’s _all_ you could find on him?”

“Yes. Honestly, this guy is like a ghost.”

Lutz pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can you find this Lisa Reisert in New York?”

He could almost hear the caller smiling. “Of course.”

“Set up a detail on her. If she sneezes, I want to know about it. We may be able to use her to draw Rippner out, but we might need leverage. So find out everything you can.”

“Will do. With all due respect, it’s a long shot.”

“I _know_ that.” He was taking great pains not to shout. “But unless I can track him down in Berlin, it’s all we have to go on right now. It’s not as though I can just call him up and ask for a meeting.” He sighed.” Let me know what you find.”

When the call ended, Lutz sank into a chair and took a deep breath. It _was_ a long shot. But if Jackson Rippner was poking around in Tobias’ apartment building AND had been inquiring after Lutz himself, it meant the American was on to them. Why he was taking an interest, Lutz had no idea, but he knew Rippner’s reputation well enough to know it didn’t bode well for his plan concerning Häberlin. Lutz had been keeping a watchful eye on Tobias’ building, hoping Rippner might show himself again. So far, no luck. While he could probably reach the other man through mutual contacts in the business, Lutz didn’t imagine Rippner would simply agree to a meeting. And what would Lutz do if he did? Politely ask him to stop investigating what was clearly none of his business? Lutz snorted. That would hardly work. No, he needed some leverage on Rippner, and he needed it fast. Perhaps some luck would finally come his way, and Lisa Resiert would turn out to be it.

 

\------------

 

_Wednesday, July 20.  New York._

“Kaylie, it’s so good to see you.” The younger woman returned Lisa’s embrace, before they sank down on opposite sites of the cozy café booth.

“You too, Lisa.” Kaylie smiled. “I can’t believe that we’re randomly in New York at the same time! I’m glad, though, it’s been way too long.” Kaylie couldn’t quite believe she was in New York at all, for that matter. She’d jumped at Alex’s suggestion that she check in with Jackson in person upon his arrival home from Europe, and take some time to enjoy the city besides. She hadn’t been back to the States in some time, and not to New York since she was a kid. She’d arrived on Monday, a day ahead of Jackson, whom she hadn’t yet seen.

Kaylie had kept in touch with Lisa over the years, exchanging emails and occasional texts, but she hadn’t seen the other woman since her departure from London all those years ago. When she had messaged Lisa to say she’d be spending a bit of time stateside, she certainly hadn’t expected the other woman to be in New York the same week that Kaylie arrived in that very city.

“I know! What are the odds,” Lisa mused. “And it’s really my fault it’s been so long,” she continued with a wry smile. “I always meant to invite you down, or come back over to London to see you. I really can’t believe how much time has passed, you’re so grown up!”

“Five years is a long time,” Kaylie mused. “But don’t feel badly, Lisa, it’s my fault as much as yours.”

A waitress interrupted then, delivering the drinks they’d ordered at the counter. A latte for Kaylie, a cappuccino for Lisa.

“You’re in town for a conference?” Kaylie asked, recalling Lisa’s comment from their emailed exchange.

“Yeah,” Lisa nodded. “So I’m basically trapped _in_ a hotel with a whole lot of other hotel managers for most of the week.” She laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s been great, but I was definitely glad for an excuse to escape for a bit.”

Kaylie chuckled. “I hope it’s a nice hotel, at least. It better be, otherwise you’ll all start critiquing it!”

Lisa smiled. “It is. And it’s fun to be in New York, I haven’t been up here in years.” She took a careful sip of her hot beverage. “So tell me what you’ve been up to! Are you still in school?”

“No.” Kaylie shook her head. “I graduated from the University of London last year – university is only three years in the UK.”

“Congrats,” Lisa smiled warmly, and the younger girl nodded her thanks. “What are you doing now?”

Kaylie paused for a moment, debating what she ought to tell Lisa. “Look, Lisa, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this, and there’s really no way to make it come out right, so I’m just going to say it. I work for Alex now.” She swallowed, trying to gauge the other woman’s reaction. “So I kind of work with Jackson.”

Lisa blinked, her mouth opening and closing a few times. “You work with Jackson? And Alex?”

“Yeah,” Kaylie affirmed. “But not like what you’re thinking,” she hurriedly added. “I do office stuff, coordinating, logistics. No real field work and Alex keeps me out of most of the…less pleasant details.”

Lisa looked like she was still struggling to process this information.

“Please don’t hate me,” Kaylie whispered, suddenly and unexpectedly aware of how much she wanted Lisa’s approval.

Lisa started, her eyes softening. “Oh sweetheart, I could never hate you.” She reached out to put a hand over Kaylie’s. “And I suppose it’s not really that surprising, given that you’ve spent so much of the last few years with Alex. You just caught me off guard a bit, is all. How long have you been working for him?”

“Part-time, for almost three years now,” Kaylie told her. “But only full time since I graduated last year.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow. “And you never thought to mention this to me before now?”

Kaylie flushed. “Well, I wasn’t exactly sure how to bring it up.”

Lisa smiled sympathetically. “Yeah, I suppose I can understand that. Do you enjoy it?”

“The work?” Kaylie chewed her lip thoughtfully. “For the most part, yeah, I do. Some parts are more interesting than others. I don’t think I’ll want to do it forever, because there isn’t really any way for me to move up without having to be a part of things that I don’t really want to be a part of.” She smiled wryly. “But for now, it’s good. I’ve learned a lot.”

“Do you see Jackson much?”

“Not that often, but it depends. Recently, I’ve been working with him more closely, so I’ve at least been talking to him pretty regularly. But even before that, I’d see him periodically when he was in London to meet with Alex. He’s in town, actually-“ Lisa’s eyes widened fractionally at that. “Only just. He’s been away most of the summer. That’s part of why I’m here, to check in with him.”

“I have to ask, what’s it like working with him?”

Kaylie chuckled. “Mostly fine, sometimes infuriating. I mean, you know what he’s like.”

They shared a look, and Lisa snorted into her hand. “I don’t suppose he’s changed much.”

“Nah, not really.” Kaylie leaned back, sipping at the remnants of her latte.

Lisa opened her mouth, closed it with a frown, then opened it again. “How is he?” She asked finally, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks.

Kaylie smiled. She wasn’t nearly as good at reading people as, say, the man in question, but Lisa’s obvious interest in her answer was hard to miss. “He seems mostly fine. He’s… you know, he’s Jackson.” She shrugged. “He works a lot and is pretty tight-lipped about everything else.”

“You must have gotten to know him _a bit_ over five years?”

“Yeah, a little. I think, maybe, we’re sort of friends?” It was true. Kaylie had spent a few, random, non-work related occasions in Jackson’s company. Mostly with Alex, but a few other times, too, like when he showed up outside her flat a week after her 21st birthday and – quite bewilderingly – took her out for a drink. Or- “The last time I saw him, he broke into my flat and stayed for three hours, despite only needing to collect something from me that took all of five minutes.” Lisa laughed. “So yeah, maybe friends. He’d roll his eyes at that, though.”

Lisa’s expression was something resembling fond. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Have you spoken to him? Since you left London?”

Lisa shook her head. “No. We didn’t exactly part ways on the best of notes.”

Kaylie wasn’t sure if she should say what she wanted to, but then abruptly decided to go for it. “Have you thought about contacting him?”

Lisa looked startled. “Jackson? No. Well, okay, yes.” Her smile was sheepish, but there was something else in her expression that Kaylie couldn’t quite place. Anxiety? Guilt? “But I think that ship has sailed.”

“Well, you never know if you don’t try?”

The older woman’s brow furrowed. “Are you seriously suggesting I should contact him?”

Kaylie shrugged. “I think you should if you want to. I mean, after all, since you’ll both be in New York for the next couple of days…”

Lisa shook her head with a sigh. “Somehow I doubt that Jackson Rippner particularly wants to hear from me.”

 

\------------ 

 

_An hour later. Berlin._

René Lutz’s phone was ringing. He snatched it off the desk. “Yes?”

“There’s been a development concerning Lisa Reisert,” the voice at the other end said without preamble.

“I’m listening.”

“One of our guys just tailed her to a coffee date with a friend. In New York. She mentioned Rippner.”

“She did?” Lutz felt the vague fluttering of what might have been hope. “We’re sure it was him she was talking about?”

“I don’t imagine she knows many Jackson Rippners.” The caller replied. “And there’s more. She spoke about contacting him, suggesting there is more history between them than we thought. And that she has a way to get in touch with him. He’s apparently in New York.”

Now that got Lutz’s attention. “Rippner is in New York?”

“Assuming we can believe Reisert’s conversation with her friend, it would appear that way.”

Lutz took a steadying breath. “I assumed he was still in Berlin. If he’s left, it means that he got whatever he came here for.” He shook his head. “I need to act quickly. What do we know about Reisert’s friend?”

“Not much. Our guy was only able to catch part of their conversation. She also mentioned Rippner by name, but she may just know about him from Reisert. My guess is just a friend, but we’ll see what we can find on her via facial recognition.”

Lutz nodded, before remembering the caller couldn’t see him. “Right, okay.” He thought for a moment. “I think we need to use this opportunity to our advantage. If both Rippner and Reisert are in New York, and she has the means to contact him, then all we have to do is force her hand. I’ll fly to New York first thing tomorrow,” he decided. “Perhaps book myself into the same hotel – could you send me her hotel details?”

“Of course.”

Lutz smiled. “Excellent. And now, let’s discuss exactly how we are going to get Lisa Reisert to cooperate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now if only Jackson and Lisa could appear in the same chapter! Like, say, the next one... ;-)


	5. Chapter 5

_“I’ll leave the details to you. You just sell it.”_

_“You’ve got the wrong person. I don’t have the authority to do that.”_

_“Well, I happen to know that you do. You’re the only voice that can get this done by the time I need it done.”_

_-Jackson Rippner & Lisa Reisert_

 

_Thursday, July 21 st. New York._

Kaylie stepped through the revolving door of the enormous hotel, pushing her sunglasses up on to her head as the doorman nodded and smiled in her direction. She returned the gesture, relishing in the air-conditioned lobby, a much-needed reprieve from the hot summer’s day. She was really enjoying her stay in New York so far, but the weather was a bit of shock after so much time spent in London. She scanned her surroundings as she crossed the lobby, looking for and quickly finding the elevators. The conference center was located on the third floor, and that was where she would be meeting Lisa.

It was only when she was leaving the coffee shop the previous day that Kaylie had spotted Lisa’s cardigan draped over the back of her chair, its owner having already departed. Her text to the other woman had gone unanswered until the evening, and – once they’d connected - Kaylie had offered to bring it by the hotel. They’d agreed upon a time, during the scheduled afternoon break between Lisa’s conference sessions.

The elevator doors opened and Kaylie stepped inside, marveling at the luxurious interior. Although, as she’d joked to Lisa yesterday, she supposed it made sense for a conference of hotel managers to be organized in a nice hotel. Her own hotel in the city was pretty fancy, itself, and Alex – predictably – had footed the bill and refused to even tell her what it cost. The elevator doors had nearly shut, when a hand slid between them.

“Oh, wait!”

Kaylie pressed the button to reopen the doors. A blond man, young-ish though older than she, stepped inside and shot her a sheepish grin. Kaylie smiled back.

“Thanks,” he offered. “In a bit of a hurry.”

“It’s no trouble,” she replied. Kaylie noticed he was wearing some kind of earpiece, although she supposed that might not be all that unusual in a hotel full of hotel managers and other businesspeople.

The elevator arrived at the third floor, and Kaylie stepped out with a polite smile towards her companion. She had turned towards the conference center, when the distant words of the man in the elevator behind her – rapidly fading as the doors slid shut – caused her to freeze in her tracks.

“She just got off on three. No sign of Reisert.”

_What?_ Kaylie spun to face the elevators, but the doors had fully shut. She knew she hadn’t misheard, although she had no idea why this man would be looking for Lisa. All senses suddenly on alert, she glanced around at the quiet hallway and entrance to the conference center. A glance at her watch told her she was early, with nearly ten minutes remaining until she was supposed to meet Lisa. The man in the elevator had been going up to floor fourteen. She could just go up and check…

It was probably a terrible idea, but Kaylie was summoning the neighboring elevator, scrambling inside and pressing fourteen before she’d had a chance to change her mind. It was probably nothing, maybe someone from the conference who was looking for Lisa. But why use her last name? And how did he know Kaylie? And why did he care what floor she got off on? Kaylie’s heart was pounding as the elevator chimed and the doors slid open.

She poked her head out, finding the area by the elevators empty. She peeked around the corner into the hallway. That, too, was empty. Cautiously, quietly, she crept down the corridor, straining to hear any sounds. This was utterly ridiculous, she told herself. Maybe she’d misheard him after all, and she was now stalking some poor man for absolutely no reason. But Kaylie couldn’t shake the feeling that something was really wrong.

As she continued down the hall, a man suddenly appeared from around the corner up ahead. Kaylie sucked in a breath as she realized it was the man from the elevator. Struggling to keep her face neutral, Kaylie kept walking, hoping to pass him without incident and then get the hell out of there. She didn’t want to look like a stalker, or be caught up in whatever might be going on. Why had she even come up here?!

“Excuse me, Miss!” Her efforts to pass without notice failed, as he stopped her with the greeting and a hand on her arm. Although she couldn’t quite explain why, her instincts were screaming at her to run for the elevator, while her common sense was objecting that she’d probably look like a lunatic.

“Can I help you? I was just on my way to my room,” Kaylie lied.

“Sure, you were.” He smiled, but his eyes were calculating. “I need you to come with me.”

“Um…why?” She inquired, trying to sound as casual as possible.

He linked his arm through hers. Kaylie instinctively pulled away, but then she felt it. A hard, cold, round object pressing into her side. She froze, glancing down, but he was cleverly concealing it in his jacket. It didn’t matter. Kaylie had been here before, and she remembered all too well what the barrel of a gun felt like. Her eyes drifted back up to his, wide with questions, and fear, and surprise.

He smirked. “Will that do, as a reason?”

Kaylie shivered and nodded. She didn’t know what else she could do under the circumstances. Why oh why hadn’t she stayed downstairs?!

“Good.” He smiled. “Do exactly as I say, and don’t try to draw any attention. Come on.” Keeping the gun firmly pressed into her side, the stranger tugged on her arm and led her back to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the button for floor twenty-three. When the elevator doors opened, he ushered Kaylie down the hall and into a suite. She glanced around the luxurious living room, noting the door to what was presumably a bedroom just beyond. Her attention was drawn back to her captor as he removed his gun hand from his jacket, keeping the weapon trained on Kaylie.

The duo stood in silence for several moments, Kaylie trying to regulate her panicky breathing and vaguely wondering what was going on, the man eyeing her carefully, but saying nothing. Then the door opened again, and Kaylie watched as two other men entered through it, one carrying a tiny girl in his arms. The girl was awake, but quiet, looking around with wide, anxious eyes. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. Kaylie’s brow furrowed. The man set the girl on the couch, standing beside her as the other two faced Kaylie. She swallowed hard.

The other recently arrived man gave a sharp nod, and the blond who had initially apprehended her approached. He took Lisa’s cardigan from Kaylie’s hands, took her purse off her shoulder, and plucked the sunglasses from the top of her head, all while she tried and failed not to flinch. He set her possessions on a nearby table, before again facing her.

“Any pockets?” He queried.

It took Kaylie a minute to understand what he was asking. “No…” she replied shakily, pulling up the hem of her shirt just a bit to show that her shorts did not, in fact, have pockets. With a glance to the man who had nodded, the blond backed up.

“Do you know this girl?” The man who had nodded asked, indicating the child on the couch. He was older than the other two, and spoke with an accent that Kaylie couldn’t quite place. The blond had sounded American.

Kaylie turned to face the small girl. Bright blue eyes met her own, and Kaylie offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I hope I don’t need to tell you that it is in your best interest to tell the truth,” he cautioned.

Kaylie swallowed hard. “I am telling the truth. I’ve never seen her before.” She hoped that was the right answer. The girl did look a tad familiar, but Kaylie didn’t know very many preschoolers, and she was sure she’d remember.

“But you do know her mother,” he continued. At Kaylie’s questioning look, he added: “Lisa Reisert?”

Kaylie’s eyes widened. “Lisa?” She looked from the man, to the child, and back again. She was about to voice that he must be mistaken, but a small voice reached her ears before she could speak.

“Mommy?” Kaylie looked to the girl in shock. “Where’s my mommy?”

“Be quiet,” the man next to the girl ordered. She immediately stilled, lower lip trembling.

“You see?” The man with the accent’s tone was extraordinarily casual, under the circumstances. “You had coffee with Lisa just yesterday, if I recall?” Kaylie froze. They knew she’d met Lisa yesterday? Who were these people and what the hell was going on? “But I can see from your expression that you did not know about the child.”

“I hadn’t seen Lisa in a long time,” Kaylie admitted. She supposed it was possible, but surely Lisa would have mentioned a child? The bright blue eyes met hers once again, and Kaylie sucked in a sharp breath. _No way._ She tried to guess the girl’s age and do the math. “I- I don’t-“

“This is Lisa Reisert’s child,” the man affirmed. “Until just a short while ago, she was with her grandfather in their hotel room just downstairs, while her mother attends the conference.”

Kaylie gaped at him. Lisa’s dad was here, too? “Where is he now?”

The man chuckled. “Don’t worry. Mr. Reisert will make a full recovery.”

“You took her,” Kaylie accused, in a moment of bravery. “She’s just a little kid!”

His eyes narrowed. “And you are not in a position to be criticizing my actions.”

Kaylie paled.

He smiled. “I don’t believe we’ve yet been introduced. What’s your name?”

“Kaylie,” she whispered.

“Kaylie.” He repeated. “My name is René Lutz. There is something I need from Lisa Reisert. And since you happened upon us at just the right time, you are going to help me get it.”

 

\------------

 

_An hour later._

Jackson’s phone was ringing. Well, one of them. It wasn’t the French phone he’d used while posing as Alain, he’d ditched that before leaving Europe. It wasn’t his work phone, which was currently sitting on his desk. He retrieved his personal cell from his bedside table, where he’d left it after checking for missed calls upon his return to New York two days earlier. Not many people called that line; not many people had the number. Alex and Kaylie, for emergencies, the reception desk of his building. Jackson’s brow furrowed as he processed the number currently calling him, one he instantly recognized despite the fact that it was not saved into his phone. He had surreptitiously added his number to Lisa’s phone in London, what felt like millennia ago; he’d never heard from her and had assumed she’d likely deleted it. They hadn’t spoken in nearly five years, why was she calling him now?

He blinked as the phone abruptly stopped ringing. He still hadn’t looked away from the screen when the phone buzzed in his hand, alerting him to a voicemail. He cautiously lifted it to his ear. Lisa sounded…panicky. She was under the impression he was in New York and needed to speak with him urgently, it was an emergency. He was calling her back before her message had finished playing.

She answered on the first ring. “Jackson?”

“Yeah, it’s me. You just called? Is everything okay?”

“No. No, it’s not.” She sniffed hard and continued on, her voice wavering. “I need your help. They’ve taken her, I don’t know who or where, but they’ve taken her and-“ She was speaking quickly now, sounding increasingly upset, and Jackson was having a hard time following.

“Whoa, Leese, slow down. Who’s they? And they’ve taken who?” Jackson was thoroughly confused, a relatively unfamiliar feeling.

“My daughter!”

Jackson froze. “Your _what_?”

“My daughter! Jackson, someone’s taken her!”

Jackson was still stuck on the revelation that Lisa was a parent. He supposed it wasn’t unlikely, or unreasonable; after all, it had been five years since he’d seen her. But it was a surprise all the same, and not an entirely welcome one.

Lisa was still talking. “I don’t know who they are, but they-“ She sounded near tears. “They promised I’d get her back unharmed if I arranged them a meeting with _you_.”

_That_ got Jackson’s attention. He pushed away any thoughts of Lisa with a child, Lisa with another _man_ , shifting his focus away from the emotional minefield back to the familiarity of crisis management. “With me? Who would even know that you know me?” His mind was swirling with possibilities.

“I don’t know!” Lisa practically shrieked, jarring him out of his thoughts. “But they have my baby and, I swear, Jackson, if they harm one hair on her head-“

“Okay, okay,” he tried to reassure her. “Where are you? Are you in Miami?”

“No!” Lisa took a deep breath. “I’m in New York.”

This was getting weirder all the time. “You’re in New York?”

“Yes!” Lisa exclaimed in frustration. Or maybe it was just desperation. “And they knew I was here, they took my daughter from my hotel room. My dad was with her and they knocked him out. And they know you’re here, too.”

“What did they say they wanted you to do?”

“They said,” Lisa sniffed. “That I had to get you to come to the hotel by seven o’clock. They said they’d call with further instructions then, and that if I wanted to see my daughter again, you had better be with me.” She was crying now, and Jackson only knew of one thing he could do that would help.

He checked his watch. It was ten past four. “Where’s your hotel, Leese?” He asked.

“On Broadway,” she choked out. “Not too far from Times Square.”

“Text me the name and your room number. I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Maybe less.”

“You’re coming?” Jackson experienced a pang of…something at the genuine surprise and relief in her voice. Had she thought he wouldn’t? He needed to find out who was behind this. And, truth be told, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Lisa, even now. Even with her husband, boyfriend, whomever, in the picture.

“Yes, Lisa. I’m on my way.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Jackson gets a bit of a shock...

_“I didn’t want this to get complicated.”_

_-Jackson Rippner_

 

_Thirty minutes later. New York._

Jackson had barely knocked on the door to Lisa’s fourteenth floor hotel room when it swung open, revealing the woman herself. She had clearly been crying, her cheeks blotchy and tear-stained, but appeared relatively composed as she waved him into the room. Joe Reisert was sitting on the couch, holding an ice pack to his head. Jackson’s eyes immediately locked with the older man’s, and he couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt quite so uncomfortable.

“Um, dad, I think you remember Jackson…” Lisa offered, sounding fairly uncomfortable herself. Joe gave a stiff nod, his expression clearly communicating that he was not totally on board with his daughter’s decision to involve Jackson in whatever was going on. Not that she really had a choice. Jackson returned the gesture.

“Hi Leese,” he offered then.

“Hi Jackson,” Lisa sighed. “Thanks for coming. I-“ She pressed a hand to her mouth, forestalling any further words, and closed her eyes tightly.

“It’s no trouble,” he murmured. “Especially as I seem to be the reason for all of this.”

“Do you know who has my granddaughter?” The question came from Joe, and his tone was harsh.

“Dad-“ Lisa started, opening her eyes to glance worriedly between them, but Jackson waved her off.

“No,” he addressed Joe. “But I intend to find out. You were here when they – uh – took her?” He cast a glance at Lisa as he asked the question. She paled and took a steadying breath.

“Yes.” Joe nodded, then winced, pressing the ice pack to his head. “There were two of them. I answered the door – they claimed to have a delivery from reception – and they pushed their way in.” He frowned. “I barely had time to react. I’m afraid I don’t remember much that would be helpful.”

“They knocked you out?”

“Yes. One of them hit me with his gun.”

“Do you remember anything about them that might be distinctive?” Jackson pressed. “How they looked? Did they speak?”

Joe took a moment to consider. “They were both younger than I am, but not terribly young. One in his 40s, I’d guess, the other a bit younger. The one who hit me had dark hair. One of them said something just before I was knocked out, but it wasn’t in English. German, maybe?”

“The man who called me,” Lisa added, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “He had an accent.”

“What kind of accent?” Jackson asked, a possibility forming in his mind. Of all the ones he had considered, it made the most sense. “A German accent?”

“I don’t know!” Lisa snapped, and then closed her eyes with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Did he call you on your cell phone?”

“No.” Opening her eyes, Lisa crossed to a small round table and picked up a phone. “On this. When I got back to my room and found my dad on the ground and Samantha gone…” She took a breath and plowed on. “It was right next to him. It rang not long after.”

Filing her daughter’s name away for no particular reason, Jackson accepted the phone from her outstretched hand and examined it. “Pretty standard burn phone.” He looked at the call log, but the number for the one incoming call was blocked. As he had figured it would be. He passed the phone back. “He said he’d call back at seven?”

Lisa nodded. “But should we wait until then? Shouldn’t we try to figure out where they are?” Her eyes welled up with tears. “What if they hurt her in the meantime?”

“You said they told you she’d be returned to you safely if you got me to meet with them.”

“And we can trust them?” Joe asked incredulously.

“Well, no,” Jackson retorted with a dry laugh. “But, right now, they want something from us. They want me. If they harmed her now, they’d wouldn’t have any leverage.” He sighed. “It’s unlikely they’ve left the hotel, as it would be difficult to move her further without attracting attention, though not impossible. Security camera footage would potentially tell us where they went, but even if we could figure it out, surprising them might force their hand and put your daughter in greater danger. I’d recommend we wait it out. And the more I can learn based on the next phone call, the better shape we’ll be in.”

“You, or us?” Joe asked acerbically. Lisa shot her father a look.

“Both,” Jackson replied, not allowing his expression or tone to reflect his irritation. He supposed Joe had a reason or two to distrust him, after all. “Whatever is happening here is because of me, so I fully intend to do whatever I need to in order to ensure your granddaughter’s safety.” His gaze flicked to Lisa, then back to Joe. “But I’d like to know as much as I can going in, and I can better protect her by doing so.”

Joe seemed to accept that, giving a short nod.

“Leese?” Jackson turned to her.

“Okay," she whispered.

“Is it just the two of you?” Jackson voiced the question that had been on his mind since Lisa’s call. He looked at Lisa. “Your husband isn’t here?”

“Husband?” Lisa squeaked.

Jackson looked at Lisa’s hands. No ring. “Or boyfriend, or-“ Lisa and her father exchanged a look. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling supremely awkward. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Joe got to his feet. “I’m going to give you two a few minutes,” he said, heading towards the door that Jackson presumed led to a bedroom.

“Dad, are you okay?” Lisa asked worriedly, stepping forward to rest a hand on his arm.

Joe kissed her forehead. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart.” He glanced back to Jackson. “You two should talk, and then we’ll go get our girl back.”

When Joe had disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, Lisa turned to Jackson. He hadn’t yet taken a moment to really look at her, and now he found that he didn’t want to look away. She had barely aged, just a slight hint of further laugh lines. She’d be what, thirty-three now? She was still breathtakingly beautiful.

“Jackson.” Lisa was staring at him with a peculiar expression on her face, a mixture of the terror he knew she was feeling, and sadness, and…guilt? “I’m not with anyone.”

“Oh.” If he felt a flutter of something that might have been relief, he wasn’t stopping to think about it. “I just assumed-“

“I know.” Lisa was chewing on her lip.

“I mean, you do have a daughter-“

“I _know_.” Lisa looked at the floor. She swallowed hard, and then raised her head again to meet his eyes. “She’s yours.”

Jackson stared at her. _What?_

Lisa went on. “I got pregnant in London, Jackson. My daughter… she’s – uh – she’s _yours_.”

Jackson’s mind was reeling. Of everything he might have expected her to say, this was not in his wildest imaginings. Lisa stepped closer and held out her phone. He stared down at a photo of a tiny girl with brown hair, Lisa’s smile, and his own blue eyes. _What. The. Actual. Fuck._ His eyes snapped up to hers. “Are you _fucking_ kidding me?”

Lisa glanced over her shoulder, and Jackson was suddenly acutely aware that Joe Reisert was only in the next room. _Holy fucking hell, Joe Reisert totally knew about this_. Jackson took a deep breath, trying to rein in the anger.

“That was _five_ years ago, Lisa,” he hissed. “You didn’t think that maybe you should mention this to me _before now?!”_

To her credit, Lisa did look guilty. “I’m sorry,” she replied quietly, and Jackson huffed. “I didn’t know what to do! We weren’t exactly together, and I didn’t want her anywhere near the kind of work you do, and – Jackson, I couldn’t really imagine that you’d want kids!”

Well, that was true. But hardly the point. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t have the right to know I _had_ one!” He snapped.

Lisa’s eyes closed. “I know.” She opened them again and met his furious expression. “I know.”

“How exactly did this happen, anyway?” Jackson pressed on angrily, their current predicament temporarily pushed to the back of his mind. “You were on birth control, or, at least you were when we first met.”

Lisa’s eyes narrowed, probably in response to the reminder of just how closely he’d watched her. Or, as it turned out, something else. “Oh, excuse me,” she snapped. “For forgetting to pack my contraceptives when you _kidnapped me out of my living room!_ ”

Right. _Fuck_. Jackson glanced around, really hoping that Joe couldn’t hear their conversation. They were both taking great pains to remain quiet, which essentially amounted to a shouting match in whispers. “Well, we must have used condoms,” he countered. Lisa arched an eyebrow, and he actually took a moment to think about it. Their time in London was a whirlwind of passion and emotion that he’d spent the past five years trying to forget. “I don’t remember,” he admitted.

Lisa heaved a sigh. “Look, Jackson, I know you’re pissed, and you have a right to be. It was wrong of me to keep this from you. If you don’t want anything to do with me – with us – after this, I’ll understand. But right now, _our_ daughter is in danger and I’m asking for your help.”

Jackson swallowed. She was right, this wasn’t the moment to be arguing. He concentrated on pushing aside his extremely confused emotions over the tiny girl that was partially his, in favor of concentrating on the problem at hand. “Her name is Samantha?” He recalled the name from earlier.

Lisa nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “Yes.” Her voice caught. “And she’s only four. And if these people hurt her in _any_ way, I will kill them with my bare hands.”

Jackson honestly didn’t doubt it.

 

\------------

 

_At the same time._

Kaylie knelt on the floor in front of the couch and offered the little girl a smile. “Hi, my name’s Kaylie. What’s your name?”

The little girl sniffed. “Sammy.”

“Hi, Sammy. You’ve never met me before, but I know your mommy.”

That perked her up just a bit. “Mommy?”

“Yeah, I know her.” Kaylie nodded.

“I want my mommy,” Sammy insisted, eyes brimming with tears.

“I know you do,” Kaylie tried to reassure her. “And I know you’re scared. But I’m going to stay right here with you until your mommy comes, okay?”

“Mommy says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” Sammy whispered.

“And that is a very good rule,” Kaylie affirmed. “But in this case, she won’t mind if you talk to me, I promise.” She glanced towards the three men. The blond appeared to have been appointed their bodyguard, while the other two conversed in the corner. It had taken all of Kaylie’s willpower to not show her reaction when René Lutz introduced himself. She was mostly certain she’d been successful. His reveal had answered the question about the reason for all of this; Kaylie assumed he was after Jackson and was trying to get to him through Lisa. How Lutz knew of Lisa while seemingly not knowing Kaylie, and what if anything he knew about the other half of Sammy’s parentage were questions still unanswered.

“Scary,” Sammy whispered.

“It’s okay,” Kaylie whispered back, hoping it was true. “I’ll keep you safe.” She tried for a smile. Lutz had ordered her to keep the girl occupied and quiet. Kaylie wasn’t extremely experienced with children, but she’d do her best, for Sammy’s sake more so than Lutz’s. “How old are you, Sammy?”

“Four.” The girl held up four fingers. “I just had a birthday.”

Kaylie mentally counted backwards. _Holy shit_. “Do you go to school?”

“Uh huh. Preschool.”

“Oh, I bet that’s fun.” Kaylie desperately wanted to ask about Sammy’s father, but didn’t dare with one of the captors so close by. Also, it probably wouldn’t be kind to direct Sammy’s attention back towards her parents when Kaylie had finally managed to distract her a bit. How she wished she could get to her phone to text Jackson. “What’s your favorite thing to do at school?”

 

\------------

 

_Thirty minutes later._

At the voicemail recording on the other end, Jackson hung up the call with a sigh of frustration.

“I got my dad to agree,” Lisa interrupted his thoughts, as she stepped back into the living room. “He won’t be coming with us.” Joe Reisert was still suffering from the after effects of his head injury, possibly even a mild concussion. Whether or not he was physically well enough to accompany them to rescue Samantha had been a source of contention between the three of them.

Jackson nodded. “I’m trying to reach Kaylie, but she’s not answering,” he told Lisa. “She knows to keep her phone on at all times.” He wanted to apprise the younger girl of the current situation, in the event that he should need any assistance. Not that he was planning to involve Kaylie in anything that would put her at risk. He had also sent off a text to Alex, who had expertise and contacts that might come in handy depending on how the evening progressed.

“Kaylie?” Lisa’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my god-“

Jackson suddenly realized that Lisa probably didn’t know. “Kaylie works for Alex now,” he clarified. “And thus, sometimes, with me.”

“I know,” she replied, much to his surprise. “I had coffee with her yesterday and she told me-“

“Wait.” Jackson held up a hand. “You saw Kaylie yesterday?” He hadn’t realized they were even still in touch.

Lisa nodded. “We email back and forth every so often, and when I mentioned I was headed to New York, she told me she’d also be in town. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since London. I left my sweater in the coffee shop and she was going to bring it by today, during my conference’s afternoon break. She never showed and so I texted her, and then came up here instead and found…” She trailed off and swallowed hard, looking at Jackson with wide eyes. “Do you think something happened to her?”

Jackson considered, something that might have been described as worry swirling in the pit of his stomach. He pushed it down. “I suppose we can’t rule it out, although it could be a coincidence.”

Lisa frowned. “That’d be some coincidence. She doesn’t show up, just as my daughter is kidnapped, less than a day after we met and spoke about you and-“

“You spoke about me?”

He might have been imagining the faint blush staining her cheeks, but he didn’t think so. “Well, she told me that she worked with you now, and I asked how you were. We definitely mentioned you by name, at least your first name.” She bit her lip. “Do you think someone might have followed Kaylie and that’s how they found me?”

Jackson had been wondering that, too. “If they were following Kaylie, they’d have to know who she is.” He rationalized. “They would know they could get to me directly through her, so why then bother bringing you into it?” He met Lisa’s eyes. “It’s also possible they were already following you.”

“But why?”

“Someone with enough interest and resources could dig up some information on the Keefe operation,” Jackson mused. “Enough information to link us both to that event.”

“But that was years ago,” Lisa protested. “If someone is trying to get a hold of you – or get to you – now, why would they follow a woman you held hostage nearly six years ago? They couldn’t know any more than that...” The last statement trailed off, sounding a bit like a question.

“No, they couldn’t,” he was quick to reassure her. “But I’m not easy to track down and if someone is desperate enough, they might start running any potential leads. If they were following you and heard you talk about me with Kaylie, they would have realized they could use you.”

“New York,” Lisa mumbled. “We said something about you being in New York...” She dropped her head into her hands. “Shit.”

“Well, that would explain the timeline.”

Lisa lifted her head. “If they overheard our conversation, they have to know who Kaylie is, even if they didn’t before. She talked about working with you. That could be why she never showed up to meet me, if they saw her come to the hotel and intercepted her-”

Jackson marveled at Lisa. Terrified about her daughter and yet still able to spare some concern for a twenty-two year old she’d spent all of a week with. Admittedly an intense week. “It’s possible.” He pulled out his phone and fired off a text to the girl in question. _Call me as soon as you get this_. “We won’t know for sure until we can talk to whoever’s behind this. Kaylie’s records are pretty airtight,” he added. “Alex has seen to that, so they’d probably have trouble corroborating anything they might have heard her say. That could be why they’re targeting you instead.”

Lisa sighed. “Who would be ‘desperate enough’? Do you know who’s behind this?”

Jackson hesitated. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to get into it with Lisa, but – then again – she was already in the middle of it. She narrowed her eyes at him, as though knowing exactly what he was thinking.

“I’m not sure,” he explained. “I just finished a job in Germany. There is someone associated with that job who would have motive to come after me. If your dad was right about these guys speaking German, it could be him, although I don’t have any reason to believe he knows I was even involved. It could also be completely unrelated. It’s easy to make enemies in this sort of business, although – aside from James Parker – I haven’t ever had any unpleasant fallout from clients _or_ targets.”

Lisa nodded, her lips pinched tightly together.

“We should have a plan,” Jackson told her. “If they give you Samantha and let you leave, you take her and _go_ , without a backwards glance. I can take care of myself. But if they don’t-“

Lisa paled. “Do you think that’s likely?”

“I think we need to be prepared for all possibilities,” Jackson countered. “If we have to go through them to get to her, we need to know how we’re going to do that.”

“I don’t think they know,” she said then. “That she’s…yours, I mean.”

“I don’t see how they could,” he replied with a sigh. “It’s better that way. It will be more dangerous for her if they find out. More dangerous for you both.”

Lisa wiped a tear off of her cheek. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I was so afraid-“ She took a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Jackson shook his head. “Don’t worry about that now, Leese. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about it later.”


	7. Chapter 7

_“Work. For the last time.”_

_-Jackson Rippner_

 

_One and a half hours later. New York._

The phone rang at exactly the time specified, and Lisa’s hand was shaking as she raised it to her ear.

“H-hello?” Then, “Yes, he’s here. My daughter- O-okay. I’ll put him on.” She held the phone out to Jackson, fear written across her face. “He wants to speak to you.”

Jackson took the phone. “Hello?” Joe put his arm around Lisa’s shoulders as they watched him.

“Ah, Mr. Rippner. Or, should I say, Monsieur Durand?”

Jackson gritted his teeth. “Herr Lutz.”

Lutz chuckled. “Indeed. I must say, Mr. Rippner, I’m most impressed. Your German and French are very good, from what I understand.”

“As is your English,” Jackson replied in German. Lisa’s brow furrowed. “Comes in handy in our line of work, does it not?”

“But of course.” Lutz, too, was now speaking in German. “I would like to meet with you, face to face. As soon as possible.”

“That can be arranged,” Jackson answered easily. “Provided you release Lisa’s daughter.”

“I knew Ms. Reisert would be most useful,” Lutz replied. “She has exceeded all expectations. Why don’t both of you come up to my room? It’s number 2304. When you arrive, I will hand over the child to Ms. Reisert, and then you and I can get down to business.”

“We’ll be there in ten minutes.” Jackson promised.

“Very good,” Lutz agreed. “I’ll see you soon.”

Jackson hung up the phone and turned to Lisa and Joe, who were watching him with wide eyes. “They’re in the hotel,” he told them. “I have the room number.”

“Is it who you thought?” Lisa whispered.

He nodded. “Unfortunately. We need to tread carefully. He may very well just give you Samantha, but he’s desperate and that makes him dangerous.” Jackson was operating under the assumption that Lutz had found out about his activities in Berlin and was hoping to silence him before he could reveal the assassination plans. It was too late, but Lutz didn’t know that.

Lisa took a deep breath and met Jackson’s eyes. “I’m ready.”

Joe frowned. “I should go with you.”

“No, dad,” Lisa turned to her father. “You can’t. You’re still a bit unsteady from the head injury, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you got hurt.”

“But I’m supposed to sit here wondering if you’re hurt?” Joe countered. Lisa hugged him tightly.

“Lisa’s right,” Jackson interjected. “You won’t be able to help in your state, and they’ll only feel more threatened if anyone other than Lisa and I show up.” He locked eyes with the older man. “I’ll keep them safe. Both of them.”

Joe stepped out of Lisa’s embrace and slowly approached Jackson. “I was about as thrilled at the idea of Lisa calling you tonight as I was at finding out you were my granddaughter’s father.”

“We didn’t exactly start out on the right foot,” Jackson acknowledged.

Joe smirked. “No. But my daughter trusts you. And I’ve learned, these days, to generally trust her judgment. If you can bring my girls back to me safely, we’ll call it even.”

That trust and responsibility hit Jackson like a ton of bricks. He swallowed hard. “You have my word.”

Joe nodded. He offered his hand, and Jackson shook it.

 

\------------

 

_Ten minutes later._

Kaylie sat cross-legged on the bed, Sammy curled up in her lap. The four year old was sound asleep. Kaylie wasn’t certain if the little girl had really begun to trust her, or if she was simply that exhausted from her ordeal. They had been relocated from the living room to the bedroom a short while ago, their armed bodyguard sitting on a chair between them and the closed door. Whatever was going down was going to happen soon. She eyed her purse, sitting on a table some distance away. There was no way she could get to her phone without blondie noticing.

He straightened up suddenly, and Kaylie did, too, straining to hear. The murmur of low voices, a door clicking shut. There were more people in the next room now, she realized, and she closed her eyes to try to identify the voices. There was Lutz’s low rumble, and then a higher pitched female voice… _Lisa_. A third voice entered the mix, and it only took Kaylie a second to realize it was Jackson. _Thank fuck_. She wished she could hear what they were saying, but at least felt moderately reassured that they were only in the room next door. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

 

“Mr. Rippner,” Lutz was saying, in English, as his associate waved Jackson and Lisa through the door. “And Ms. Reisert, of course. How good of you to come.”

“My daughter-“ Lisa began.

“Is quite unharmed, you have my word.” Lutz replied, with a smile. “You’ll see her soon. But first, if you don’t mind?”

His associate approached, quickly frisking first Jackson, then Lisa. Jackson had expected this and had therefore advised Lisa against carrying any kind of weapon. The other man predictably found the gun at Jackson’s back, pulling it free and tucking it into his own jacket.

“I’m here,” Jackson told Lutz, as the other man stepped back, his gun trained on Jackson and Lisa. Lutz wasn’t holding a gun, but Jackson knew better than to believe him without one. “And unarmed, and we’ve done everything you’ve asked. Give Lisa her daughter and let them go.”

“Hm.” Lutz appeared to mull this over, causing Jackson to grit his teeth in frustration, even while his face remained neutral. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. “Not yet.”

“Please,” Lisa begged, clearly struggling not to cry. “I need my daughter.”

“And you shall have her, Ms. Reisert,” Lutz replied. “Don’t worry. But I’m most impressed that you were able to get Mr. Rippner here on such short notice. I believe he might be more accommodating while I still have some leverage.”

“What do you want, Lutz,” Jackson growled.

Lutz smiled. “I would like to know why you were following Tobias Kohler in Berlin. And what you found out by doing so.”

“I think you know,” Jackson retorted.

“You were investigating my activities there. Yes, I assumed as much. What I do not know is why, or how much you uncovered.”

“I was hired to,” Jackon replied. “It was a job.” Lutz’s associate had circled around so that he was now behind Jackson and Lisa, his gun still on them. Jackson could see him from the corner of his eye.

“Hired by whom?”

Jackson smirked. “I’m not really in the business of revealing my clients, Lutz. You, of all people, should understand that.”

Lutz nodded. “I do, I do. But we’re not really so different, you and I. Are we, Mr. Rippner? If the roles were reversed, wouldn’t you appreciate a little tip to give you a head start over those who were after you?”

Jackson bristled at the implication that he and Lutz were anything alike. Similar line of work, perhaps, but he wasn’t in the habit of planning jobs for personal reasons. Admittedly, the woman standing next to him could testify to the fact that he occasionally let revenge-driven fury take hold. “Someone has taken an interest in your history with the new Swiss military attaché to Berlin,” he told Lutz. “A history you aren’t quite ready to leave in the past, it would seem.”

Lutz’s expression darkened. “You know nothing of it,” he hissed. “That man has plagued my life, and I’m finally going to be rid of him. I’ll ask again - _who_ hired you?”

“There are those who want Häberlin alive and unharmed,” Jackson offered. “And who are willing to go to great lengths to make sure he stays that way.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than he took a sudden step back, freeing the small knife he had concealed in his sleeve. The blade met its intended target in the stomach of the man behind him. As the man doubled over with a grunt, Jackson swung him around, snatching the gun from his grip. By the time Lutz had pulled his own weapon, Jackson was armed and using the injured man as a shield between himself and the irate Swiss, Lisa safely behind him. Jackson retrieved his own gun from the man’s jacket and handed it to Lisa. “Now,” he said, eyes on Lutz. “We’re going to get Lisa’s daughter and then we’ll be on our way.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Lutz growled.

“It’s over, Lutz,” Jackson retorted in exasperation. He nodded to Lisa and they began slowly moving towards the door to the bedroom, where Jackson had a hunch they would find Samantha. “I’ve already reported back to my clients. They know that you’re planning to assassinate Häberlin and have a pretty good idea of how and when. Don’t go back to Berlin, or Switzerland for that matter. But you can still disappear.”

Lutz’s face contorted in fury, but his response was cut short by the door to the bedroom suddenly swinging open. A young blond man barreled out, gun at the ready. Lisa was still behind Jackson, in arms reach of the newcomer, and Jackson dropped the wounded man in his grip, trying to keep both Lutz and the blond in his sight. Lisa reacted instantly, kicking the blond’s arm with enough force to send his gun flying back into the bedroom. He looked at her in shock, and that was all the time Jackson needed to cover the distance between them and slam his gun into the side of the man’s head. As the blond dropped to the floor, Jackson swung his gun back to Lutz, who had been trying to creep forward.

Lisa shrieked, and Jackson glanced behind him to find that the man he’d stabbed earlier had recovered enough to pull a knife and swipe it across her leg, before kicking Lisa’s legs out from under her. She had barely hit the floor when Jackson was there, knocking the man out cold with a swift kick to the head.

“Leese!”

“I’m okay,” she gasped, pressing a hand to where blood seeped from her leg. “It’s not bad.” She twisted to look at the door. “Samantha-“

Jackson followed her gaze to see that Lutz had slipped through the bedroom door, shutting it behind him. Leaving Lisa to get to her feet, he immediately followed.

 

\------------

 

At the start of the commotion in the room next door, the blond had ordered Kaylie and Sammy off the bed and into the corner. The little girl had awoken as Kaylie moved her and was now clinging tightly to her neck. When the blond went for the door, Kaylie saw her chance. As he disappeared through it, she darted for the table to retrieve her phone. Her hand had just closed around the device when a gun skidded through the door, colliding with the foot of the bed. She had snatched it up before she’d had time to consider, hurrying back to the corner and setting Sammy on her feet.

“Stay behind me,” she ordered the little girl, who nodded and trembled. At Lisa’s shriek, Kaylie turned back towards the door, checking to make sure that the gun’s safety was off. She aimed the gun at the door and waited. Lutz entered in the next second, drowning out the sound of Lisa and Jackson behind him as he swung the door closed. He, too, was holding a gun.

“Give me the child,” he spat.

“No.” Kaylie stared him down. “Don’t come any closer,” she ordered.

“Ooh, little girl’s got a gun,” he taunted with a smirk. “Guns are dangerous, you know. You should be careful.” He took a step towards them.

“I said, don’t come any closer.” Kaylie repeated more loudly, staring down the barrel of the gun. “Or I’ll shoot.” Samantha was pressed up against the backs of her legs, clinging tight. Kaylie hoped the four year old’s eyes were closed.

Lutz grinned. “Sure you will.” And he began to stride towards them.

Kaylie fired, biting her lip hard to contain the startled shriek at her own action. Lutz stumbled and grunted, a red stain rapidly spreading across his left shoulder. He straightened up with a wince, leveling his gun at Kaylie. She had barely had time to panic when Jackson was there, somehow squeezing Lutz’s injured shoulder and pulling the gun from his grip and kicking his legs out from under him in one motion. Kaylie sighed with relief.

“Mommy!”

Lisa rushed past Jackson, limping slightly, and Kaylie stepped aside to let her sweep her daughter into her arms.

“Go in the other room,” Jackson ordered them, his gun trained on Lutz. Lisa led the way, Sammy safe in her arms, and Kaylie followed. She paused just over the threshold, eyeing the two unconscious men on the floor.

“It didn’t have to end this way.” Jackson’s voice came from behind her. “But I need to ensure you stay the fuck away from my daughter.”

“ _Your_ daughter?” Lutz spluttered, giving off a slight laugh. “That explains _so_ many things.”

Kaylie squeezed her eyes shut at the gunshot. When she opened them again, turning back to the bedroom, Lutz was face first on the ground in a growing pool of blood, his eyes open and lifeless.

Jackson tucked his gun into his jacket and left the bedroom. With a glance to Lisa, who was hugging Samantha tightly, both of them crying, he approached Kaylie. She stood stock still, clutching the gun, her eyes still trained on the prone form on the floor.

“Kaylie,” Jackson’s voice was calm, almost soothing. “Give me the gun.” She relinquished it readily, watching as he flicked the safety back on and tucked it into his waistband. “Kaylie, it’s okay. It’s over.” She stared at him, hearing his words and processing them, but not reacting. Mere moments ago, she had been staring down the barrel of a gun, certain she was either about to die or take a life – admittedly in self-defense – and now… now, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to do or feel.

Jackson sighed. Closing the distance between them, he then did something that he had never before done in the nearly six years since she had first met him: he put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. Blinking in mild surprise, despite her state of shock, Kaylie instinctively hugged him back. A feeling of incredible relief washed over her and tears pricked her eyes, as the emotions that she had attempted to keep buried during this ordeal finally flooded to the surface. If Jackson could tell she was hovering on the edge of crying, he made no comment, just squeezed her gently and rested his chin on top of her head.

“I shot him,” Kaylie said, after a long moment. She made no move to step out of Jackson’s arms and, for his part, he didn’t seem to mind.

“I know.” His voice came from over her head. “It was a good shot. There’s a reason Alex taught you to shoot, instead of me.”

Kaylie sniffed. She wasn’t sure that made her feel any better.

“It was self-defense, Kaylie,” Jackson reminded her, as though knowing what she was thinking. “And you didn’t kill him.”

Her gaze drifted to the prone body on the floor, just visible from where her cheek rested against Jackson’s front. “I know.”

He stepped back then, peering down at her with uncharacteristic concern swirling in his eyes. “We should get out of here. Are you okay?”

Kaylie nodded. “I think so.” She managed a tiny smile. “Thanks.”

He put an arm around her shoulders as they turned to join Lisa and Samantha, and Kaylie couldn’t help but smirk up at him. “You feeling particularly sentimental or something?”

Jackson rolled his eyes, but didn’t remove his arm. When they reached Lisa’s side, he took her free hand in his own, Samantha held securely in her other arm. And just like that, they exited the room together.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re down to the final three chapters of this fic. The overall story divides into three parts: the backstory, the action, and – now – this is the beginning of the dénouement.

_“We get out of this, I may have to steal you.”_

_-Jackson Rippner_

_Ten minutes later. New York._

If Jackson was amazed and a little bit relieved that they made it back to Lisa’s hotel room before any attention had been directed towards the commotion on the twenty-third floor, he didn’t stop to think about it. Joe was on them as soon as they were through the door, hugging Lisa and Samantha tightly. When he finally stepped back, he met Jackson’s eyes with a nod that the younger man returned, and then swayed a bit on his feet. Lisa reached out to steady him.

“Dad, I think you might really have a concussion,” she worried. “You should probably go get checked out at the hospital.”

Joe opened his mouth, presumably to object, but Jackson cut him off. “Later, Leese. We need to get out of here. All of us.”

She met his eyes for a brief moment, then nodded. Lisa and Kaylie made quick work of packing, while Joe held a still-clingy Samantha and Jackson retrieved his phone to call Alex. Thankfully, and despite the late hour in London, the older man answered almost immediately.

“Jackson?”

“It was Lutz, as I thought,” he said without preamble. “He used Lisa to get to me.” In his earlier text, he’d briefly told Alex of Lisa’s involvement. He'd left Samantha out, for the moment, deciding to save that bit of news for a later conversation. “We’re all okay, but Lutz is dead and two of his associates are at least wounded. They’re all in the hotel room.”

“What cleanup do you need?” At times like this, Jackson was grateful for Alex’s directness and professionalism. He didn’t ask unnecessary questions, didn’t try to understand all of the details, he simply took Jackson’s word for it and provided whatever help he could.

“Security camera footage of Kaylie, Lisa and I near room 2304.” Alex sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of Kaylie, but didn’t interrupt. “Lisa’s hotel reservation, to be on the safe side. It’s probably best to leave the bodies,” Jackson reasoned. “It will be hard to move them fast enough, and could probably be explained as an altercation between the three of them.”

“On it,” Alex replied. “Are you all somewhere safe?”

“We’re still in the hotel. Leaving now.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

Jackson hung up the call. Alex had contacts just about everywhere, it seemed, and he would take care of removing any evidence that could link any of them to tonight’s events. Lisa and Kaylie emerged from the bedroom with the luggage.

“Leese, honey, you’re bleeding,” Joe exclaimed, apparently having only just noticed the wound to her leg.

“I’m alright, dad,” she reassured him. “It’s just a scratch. I’ll take care of it when we get…wherever we’re going.” The last was said with a questioning look to Jackson.

“We need to go _now_ ,” Jackson replied, hefting a bag and putting aside any details for later. “My car is in the underground parking garage.”

Lisa took Samantha, and Kaylie linked arms with Joe to help steady him. They gathered up the luggage and hurried to the elevator, heading down to the garage. To the car. Away from the hotel and the unpleasant events that had occurred there.

 

\------------

 

_Late that night._

Kaylie glanced up at the sound of the apartment door opening and clicking shut. She was sitting on the couch in Jackson’s living room, wrapped in a blanket. The man himself came around the corner, offering her a sort-of smile when he saw she was awake.

“Are they asleep?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah.” Kaylie nodded. Lisa had allowed Jackson to bandage her injured leg when they’d first arrived, and she and Samantha had fallen asleep not long after he’d left to take Joe to the hospital. Lisa had finally convinced her father that he ought to be checked out by a doctor.

“You should be, too,” he commented.

Kaylie shrugged. “Can’t.” It was true. She’d really tried, but memories of Lutz charging at them with a gun kept echoing through her mind.

Jackson disappeared into the kitchen. She heard the sound of the fridge opening, the clinking of bottles, and then he returned. He passed her a beer, and dropped on to the other end of the couch, holding onto his own drink.

“Thanks.” She took a sip. “How’s Joe?”

“He’ll be fine. Told me not to stay.” Jackson leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. “He should be released tomorrow.”

“Good.” Kaylie took a moment to consider what she wanted to say next. “So… Jackson. Anything you want to tell me?”

He opened his eyes, glancing towards her without moving his head, and she nodded in the direction of his bedroom. “How did you know?”

“Well, aside from the fact that I heard what you said to Lutz, I can also do math. And she has your eyes.”

“I didn’t know until today,” he admitted, as Kaylie’s mouth fell open. “Lisa never told me.”

Kaylie shook her head in amazement. “And to think she was getting on my case for not telling her about my _job.”_

Jackson chuckled.

“Are you okay?” Kaylie asked then. “Do you want to talk?”

He snorted. “I’m fine. And no.”

Kaylie waited patiently. She hadn’t known Jackson for as long as she had only to be so easily rebuffed by his prickliness. How _could_ he be okay? It had to be a shock to find out you were a parent, regardless of how he felt about it.

He took a sip of beer and then absently ran his finger around the rim of the bottle. “It’s just, what the _fuck_ am I supposed to do now?”

Kaylie hid her smile by taking a long sip. “I think you get to do whatever you want,” she told him. He looked at her incredulously. “I mean it,” she insisted. “You get to decide if you want to be a part of your daughter’s life. You definitely have a right to be, if you want to, but I think Lisa would understand if you didn’t.”

“She probably wouldn’t be all that surprised,” Jackson mused quietly. “But I know one thing – she’s not going to want me to be involved, as long as I’m doing this kind of work."

Kaylie thought he was probably right about that. “Well, then, I guess you have to figure out what your priorities are.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“No.” Kaylie shook her head. “No, I don’t suppose it is.” She took another sip of beer. She didn’t think she really had any business giving relationship or parenting advice. Especially to Jackson Rippner, who was pretty emotionally dysfunctional on a good day. “You care about Lisa. And she cares about you,” she tacked on, before he could object. “Just talk to her, Jackson.”

They finished their drinks in silence, and then Jackson stood, plucking the empty bottle from Kaylie’s hand on his way to the kitchen. “You should get some rest.”

“You too,” she yawned. “And Jackson?” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

“It’s no trouble.” He disappeared into the kitchen. “Get some sleep.”

Kaylie snuggled down under the blanket, determined to do exactly that.

 

\------------ 

 

Kaylie’s breathing had evened out, indicating she had finally fallen asleep. Jackson padded quietly to his bedroom, pausing in the doorway and allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light. Lisa was curled on her side, her hair partially obscuring her face, her chest rising and falling gently as she slept. Samantha was snuggled into her, also sound asleep, with one hand clutching her mother’s shirt. Jackson watched them for a few minutes and then retired to his balcony. He didn’t use it much this time of year, in the oppressive New York summer heat, but in the middle of the night it was pleasant. He settled into a chair, leaning back and looking out across the twinkling lights of the city.

That was where Lisa found him, hours later, as the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon.

“Did you sleep?”

He glanced up at her quiet voice to find her stepping through the door, sliding it shut behind her. He shook his head. “No.”

She frowned. “Jackson, you should sleep.”

He shrugged. “I’m fine. I’ve gone longer without it.”

Lisa didn’t look convinced, but didn’t argue further, instead curling up in the chair next to his. “It’s nice out here.”

“It is now,” he mused. “By 10 AM, it’ll be unbearable.”

They fell silent for several minutes.

“Thank you for last night.” Lisa finally spoke, her voice quiet. “You didn’t have to do that, but you did, and… honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He nodded, a bit stiffly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“For what it’s worth, I _am_ sorry, Jackson. I know you’re probably still angry with me." 

“I’m not.” And he was surprised by how true that statement was.

“I was afraid to tell you,” she confessed. “Afraid of how you’d react, afraid that your job would put Sammy at risk. I knew I shouldn’t keep it from you, but as time went on it became harder and harder to figure out how to bring it up.”

“I get it.” He met her eyes. “I wish you’d told me, but I get it.”

Lisa nodded, her eyes full of emotion. “I haven’t told her who you are. I won’t, unless you want me to.”

And there was that question. What _did_ Jackson want? Did he want his daughter to know him? “And if I did want you to…” he broached, wondering how Lisa would respond.

“You have a right to know her,” she said. “And she you, if that’s what you want. Especially after everything you did for us yesterday.” Her brow furrowed. “I won’t pretend I don’t have concerns about her safety, but, I don’t know. I thought keeping her away from you would keep her safe, but we’ve seen how well that worked.”

“I don’t have any idea how to be a father,” he confessed abruptly. Maybe he was taking Kaylie’s advice, after all.

Lisa smiled. “Trust me, I didn’t feel like I knew what I was doing at first, either.” She looked at him curiously. “You’ve never talked about your parents. Well, except for telling me you’d killed them.” She paled, as though it was just occurring to her. “You didn’t, did you?”

His head snapped to hers. “No. _That_ was a joke, Leese.” He was amazed she even remembered the conversation, so much had happened since then. “But they were no role models, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

She reached over and rested her hand on his arm. Jackson felt like her touch was burning right into his skin. “Are they still alive?”

“My father died when I was twelve,” he explained, looking away. “My mother is still alive, as far as I know.”

“As far as you know?” Lisa echoed.

He nodded. “I haven’t seen her since I was nineteen.”

He risked a glance at Lisa. She looked shell-shocked. “That’s… sixteen years!” She spluttered.

“Yep.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Lisa sounded like she was trying to approach the subject very tentatively. “What happened?”

Jackson generally _did_ mind people asking, but Lisa wasn’t people. He’d hardly ever talked about his family with anyone, but he found himself wanting to tell her. He sighed. “My father was a difficult man, stern and uncompromising. Not unkind, exactly, but detached. I spent most of my childhood trying to please him, to get his attention, and generally falling short.” Lisa was listening intently, wide-eyed. “I was a military brat, born in Indiana, but we moved every couple of years. When I was seven, my father was posted to Germany, to a large US military installation in Kaiserslautern, and we went with him.”

“German,” Lisa said suddenly. “You were speaking German, last night. On the phone.” When he nodded, she waved a hand. “Sorry, go on.”

“We were there for five years. I loved it there,” he recalled, indulging in a rare moment of reminiscing. “But when I was twelve, my father was killed in a civilian car accident off base. After that, my mother and I moved back to the States, to Pennsylvania to be near her family.” He sighed. “She didn’t cope well with his death. I don’t think she really knew what to do with me and so, not six months after we’d returned, she sent me to boarding school in New York state.”

“She sent you away?” Lisa had one hand pressed to her mouth and was speaking around it. “Just after you’d lost your father?”

He nodded. “It was fine, in the end. I did well in school and liked it there. It was better than being home, where my mother could barely be bothered to interact with me. She had never been like that before he died.” Jackson gave himself a shake, trying to brush off the unpleasant memories. “I started inventing excuses to avoid going home. I’d see her a time or two a year for holidays. I graduated a year early and moved to Paris when I was seventeen to attend university. I saw her once or twice more after that, and that was it.”

“And she’s never contacted you?”

“For a few years, she did, here and there.” He shrugged. “And then, it stopped. I kept tabs on her for awhile, she was still alive a few years ago, but I don’t know about now.” He smiled wryly. “So, you see, Lisa, I’m sorely lacking in parental role models.”

Lisa’s hand had slid down Jackson’s arm, and she now entwined her fingers with his own. He looked down at their joined hands in something akin to amazement. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“Don’t be,” he shook his head. “It’s ancient history.”

She studied him carefully, her eyes knowing, and for a second Jackson was convinced she was going to press the issue, insisting that it must still be affecting him. “What about Alex?” She asked instead. “I know he cares about you, and he’s been wonderful to Kaylie.”

She was right about Alex. Jackson sometimes forgot how perceptive she was. “An intelligent, capable, kind, loyal father-figure who just so happens to run an international business of assassinations and government overthrows?” He quipped.

Lisa smiled at him, her eyes warm. “Sounds about right.” Jackson held her gaze, aware that a lot of emotions were rising to the surface that he’d kept suppressed for five years. She shifted, ending the moment, but kept her hand in his. “Speaking of Kaylie. It was a bit of a shock to find out she’s working with you and Alex now, although I don’t exactly know why I was surprised.”

“You seem to have taken it pretty well,” he commented.

Lisa shrugged. “I’m not going to hold it against her, if that’s what you mean. She’s a good kid.” Her eyes narrowed. “So you better be treating her okay.”

Jackson raised his free hand in mock defense. “Hey, what’s with the attack? Kaylie is perfectly capable of holding her own.” He raised his eyebrows. “Trust me.”

“I feel badly I never made the effort to visit her,” Lisa admitted. “I’m glad she has you and Alex.”

Jackson snorted. “Glad she has Alex, you mean. I can’t take much credit for anything.”

Lisa eyed him knowingly, a little _too_ knowingly. “Uh huh. You care about her. You don’t have to admit it,” she tacked on, clearly seeing that he was about to object. “But I know you do.”

She knew it, and Jackson did, too, if he was honest with himself. He’d felt legitimate fear last night, seeing Lutz with a gun aimed at Kaylie and Samantha, and he knew that reaction was not only for his tiny, newfound daughter. He’d come to like Kaylie, rather despite his best intentions, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to live with himself if she got hurt while working for him.

He turned to Lisa, forming a question that had been evolving in his mind. “If I quit, would you feel more comfortable with me being a part of Samantha’s life?”

Lisa’s eyes widened. “Jackson, I could never ask you to do that." 

“You don’t have to.”

She stared at him for several agonizing seconds. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ll quit, Leese. I need to talk to Alex, but he’ll understand.” Jackson swallowed hard. He wasn’t accustomed to dealing in such emotional territory, and he wasn’t at all sure he liked it. But this was important. “Because I want to be a part of her life. And yours. If you want me to be, that is,” he tacked on, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

“Jackson,” she breathed. “I never thought – it’s been so long – I didn’t – I assumed –“ She stopped, briefly closing her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I want you to be a part of our lives. I didn’t think that’s what _you’d_ want-“

“I love you, Lisa.”

Lisa blinked. “You do?”

“I should’ve told you in London. I should never have let you leave.”

Her eyes welled up with tears. “All this time?”

He nodded. “Always.”

She leaned forward and kissed him hard, and it was even better than Jackson had remembered. Her hand was in his hair, and his found its way to the back of her neck, their other hands still entwined. She pulled back ever so slightly, her lips hovering a breadth away from his.

“I love you, too, Jackson.”

He tugged on her hand, pulling her out of her seat and into his lap. She went willingly, ending up with her body flush against him, his arms closed around her waist and hers around his neck. They stayed that way for a long moment, breathing each other in. She straightened up long enough to drop a light kiss to his lips, then curled up on her side against his chest. He tightened his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head, and – together – they watched the sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I do also love writing Jackson and Lisa arguing, this is easily one of my favorite scenes I’ve ever written between them. I was trying to find the balance between Jackson beginning to open up to Lisa a little bit, but also clearly still being uncomfortable with doing so… hopefully he stayed in character! This entire story was really designed around getting them to this point… Two chapters to go!


	9. Chapter 9

_“Nothing fazed her, you know? She was so optimistic. ‘Always look forward’. That’s what she’d say.”_

_-Lisa Reisert_

 

_Friday, July 22 nd. Berlin._

In the Schweizerische Botschaft, two uniformed men walked down a long corridor, arriving at an office suite. They approached the desk of a middle-aged man, who looked up as they neared, his face paling.

“Herr Kohler,” one of the uniformed men greeted, speaking in German. “Your presence is requested in the conference room.”

“For what reason?” Tobias Kohler inquired, his eyes darting between the two other men.

“You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder,” the second uniform replied. “You’ll need to come with us.”

 

\------------

 

_At the same time. New York._

Kaylie was concentrating hard on the task at hand, tongue pinched between her teeth. With a teaspoon, she carefully drew a smiley-face in jam on the piece of toast, before pushing the plate in front of Sammy. The little girl erupted in giggles, eliciting a fond smile from Lisa. They’d raided Jackson’s kitchen for breakfast items; it was surprisingly well stocked, given that he lived alone and had recently returned from months away. Kaylie’s morning greeting to Lisa had consisted of ‘ _Seriously?!’_ , as she gestured at Samantha. The older woman had smiled sheepishly and tried to apologize, at which point Kaylie had abandoned all pretense of irritation and given Lisa a hug.

Jackson entered the room just then, hair still slightly damp from a recent shower. The soft smile Lisa sent in his direction confirmed Kaylie’s suspicions about the feelings that still existed between them, while Sammy peered up at him with unmistakable curiosity. Jackson poured himself a cup of coffee and joined them at the table.

“Sammy, come here a minute.” At her mother’s request, the four-year-old abandoned her toast and went to climb into Lisa’s lap. Lisa shifted in her seat until they were both facing Jackson. “Jackson, I’d like you to meet Samantha. Sammy, this is Jackson.” She kissed her daughter’s head.

Kaylie wondered if they would eventually tell Sammy who Jackson really was. Admittedly, the breakfast table after a traumatic night was maybe not the best time or place. She couldn’t quite imagine Jackson as a parent, but – if the way he and Lisa were looking at each other was any indication – she assumed he’d be playing some kind of role in his daughter’s life.

“Hi.” Sammy said brightly, smiling at him.

“Uh…hi.” He responded, mostly managing a smile back.

Sammy wriggled out of her mother’s grasp and approached Jackson, climbing up into his lap. He let her, although his eyes widened considerably. Lisa hid a smile behind her hand. Kaylie wasn’t quite so discreet, her grin earning her a glare from Jackson over the top of Sammy’s head. Kaylie had never seen him look quite so uncomfortable.

Sammy stretched for her plate, out of reach on the other side of the table. Lisa picked it up. “What do you say?”

“Please,” Sammy chimed, beaming when her mother set it down in front of her. She picked up the toast and twisted to look at the man behind her. “Do you want some toast?”

Kaylie hid her giggle in a sip of coffee, as Jackson shook his head. “No, I’m okay. But, thank you?”

Sammy smiled, shrugged, and crammed the toast into her mouth.

 

\------------

 

_An hour later._

Jackson found Lisa in the bedroom, halfway through getting changed. “Sorry,” he muttered, turning to go.

Lisa laughed. “Jackson, it’s fine. You can come in.”

He wasn’t about to turn down that invitation and closed the door behind him, the noise of Kaylie and Samantha playing in the living room fading.

She tugged her shirt down and turned to face him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“A lot to take in?” She asked knowingly. You could say that. Jackson Rippner was not accustomed to feeling out of his depth, but this whole fatherhood thing was going to take some getting used to. And Samantha didn’t even know who he was yet. Lisa crossed the room to stand in front of him, running her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “Don’t worry. I mean it,” she added, in response to his raised eyebrow.

He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, and he pressed his lips to hers.

She responded almost immediately, going up on her tiptoes as her arms tightened around his shoulders, one hand in his hair. He backed her into the nearby wall, trapping her there, never breaking the kiss as his hands found their way up her shirt. She pulled him closer, until he was flush against her from hip to shoulder. He pushed her shirt up, convinced she was wearing far too much clothing, and-

“Mommy?”

At the tiny voice echoing from the hallway, Lisa let off a sound that was half-sigh, half-giggle, the feeling reverberating against his lips. He leaned his forehead against hers with a groan.

“Welcome to parenthood,” she murmured, kissing him lightly and then slipping out of his grasp. He tried to pull himself together as she opened the door. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

It turned out Samantha needed nothing more pressing than to urgently show Lisa a drawing she had just completed with Kaylie’s assistance. As the four-year-old scampered off and Lisa stepped back into the bedroom, Jackson tipped his head back and eyed her through half-closed lids. “Seriously?”

Lisa again crossed the room to slide her arms around his waist. “She’s four, Jackson. And not exactly used to sharing my attention.” She smiled. “It’s going to be an adjustment for all of us.”

Well, if that wasn’t the truth.

“We may have to pick this up later,” she added. “Like, maybe when she’s asleep.”

“I suppose I can wait until then,” he conceded, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“It’ll be worth it, I promise.” She grinned cheekily, and Jackson rolled his eyes.

“Are you _trying_ to kill me?”

Lisa chuckled. “I’m going to go see my dad at the hospital soon,” she said then, in an abrupt change of subject, and one definitely guaranteed to end Jackson’s sexual imaginings. For the moment, anyway. “Hopefully they’ll be ready to release him.”

“We’re going to need to do something about sleeping arrangements,” he pointed out. Any plans he might have for Lisa for that night would not work if their daughter and Joe Reisert were sleeping in his bedroom. And there really wasn’t anywhere else to put them in his apartment. Maybe the couch, if Kaylie went back to her hotel. Much to his chagrin, Jackson was forced to acknowledge that his plans for Lisa might have to wait.

“We have flights home booked for tomorrow. If they clear him to travel, we should probably keep them.” She must have noticed his change of expression. “It’ll be easier for my dad to recover at home,” she reasoned. “And we can’t very well all stay in your apartment while you and I figure out…” She gave a wry smile. “Whatever we need to figure out.”

Jackson nodded, conceding that she had a point. “I need to go to London,” he told her. “I want to talk to Alex in person to tell him… what’s going on and about my decision. I’ll probably take Kaylie with me, there’s something I want to discuss with both of them.”

“Are you really sure about this?” Lisa asked, peering up into his eyes with concern. “About resigning?”

“Yes.” He kissed her. “I’m sure. Technically, it’s not really resigning as I don’t actually _work_ for Alex. But I contract with him frequently, and I owe him the explanation.”

“Of course.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you have anything you have to finish up, like with this last job?”

He shook his head. That job had ended last night, although a bit more messily than he’d planned. Thank _fuck_ it was over. “No, I’m done. Especially given the events of last night.”

Lisa sighed heavily, letting off a slight shiver. Jackson pulled her closer. “Lutz really had it out for you. What did you do to him? Or do I not want to know?”

“I undermined his attempt to assassinate his former rival, now a high-ranking Swiss military official.”

“Oh.” Lisa looked up at him in surprise. “You _prevented_ an assassination?”

Jackson snorted. “You don’t have to sound so surprised. Although, admittedly, I’m usually on the other side of that equation.”

“Who hired you?” she wondered.

“The Swiss government. My work was finished before I returned to New York, although I will have to let them know that Lutz is dead.”

Lisa nodded. “I should probably have asked this last night, but do we need to be concerned about any of what happened getting traced back to us?”

“No.” Jackson shook his head. “Alex took care of it.”

Lisa gave a wry smile. “He’s very good at that, it seems.”

“That he is.”

She laughed suddenly. “I’m beginning to think that you and I need to start avoiding hotels.”

Jackson was again amazed by Lisa’s resilience; terrified last night, and now able to joke about it. “That might be difficult, given your job.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Sorry for the indelicate question, but can you afford to just… stop working?”

He laughed. “Trust me, Leese, money is not an issue. I’ll need to work eventually, but I can afford to take the time to figure it out.” He pursed his lips, considering. “I’ll settle a few things here, then go to London and see Alex. Then I can come meet you in Miami, and we can take it from there. Are you okay with that?”

She rested her head against his chest, and he couldn’t help but marvel, yet again, that she was really, truly, there. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

 

\------------

 

_Friday, July 29 th. London._

Alex was making tea. Jackson preferred coffee, but found that that he drank a lot of tea quite without meaning to whenever he stayed in the Irishman’s home.

“So what’s going on?” The older man inquired, stirring milk into one mug before setting both on the table between them. “I didn’t expect to see either of you quite so soon.” Alex was referring to Kaylie, with whom Jackson had arrived in London earlier in the day. After joining the men for a meal, she had retired upstairs to sleep off the jet lag. Poor kid. She wasn’t nearly as used to the transatlantic flights as he was.

At Jackson’s request, Kaylie had said nothing to Alex of the events that had occurred in New York, other than to reassure him that she was okay. Jackson had no doubt that they’d discuss it eventually, but he wanted to talk to Alex first.

“You know a bit about what happened in New York,” he began. “Lutz came after me and used Lisa, who happened to be in town for a conference. Thank you for your help with that, by the way.”

Alex nodded. “Of course.”

“But there’s something I didn’t tell you.” Jackson paused. “Lisa has a daughter.” Alex paused mid-sip, looking at Jackson over the rim of his mug. “That’s how Lutz got to her, he held her daughter hostage to force Lisa to contact me. Her daughter, she’s – well, she’s mine.”

Alex was quiet for a moment, and then smiled. “You have a daughter.”

“Yes. I have a daughter.” The words still sounded foreign on Jackson’s tongue.

“First things first,” Alex stated. “I assume the girl is safe? And Lisa, too?”

Jackson nodded. “Yes. They’re both fine.”

“Good.” Alex eyed him carefully. “This happened when you were both last here, I presume?”

Jackson sighed. “Yes. I hadn’t seen Lisa since then. Samantha – that’s her name – she’s four.”

“Lisa didn’t tell you until now.” It wasn’t a question. Then again, Alex knew Jackson better than probably anyone, and had clearly correctly surmised that the younger man would’ve shared such a development.

“She was worried that my work would put Samantha in danger,” Jackson admitted. “Which, as it turns out, wasn’t an unreasonable concern.”

“No, I suppose not.” Alex smiled sympathetically. “How are you coping with all of this?”

That was an excellent question, and one Jackson wasn’t entirely sure he had an answer to. He didn’t like thinking about his emotions, much less talking about them, but if there was anyone he could be honest with, it was Alex. Well, Lisa, too, come to think of it. “I’m not sure,” he answered truthfully. “At first, I was angry that she hadn’t told me, but I also can’t completely blame her. I’ve never thought that I wanted to have a family, but, now, seeing Lisa and Samantha, for the first time I’m actually thinking about it.”

“You’ve met her?”

Jackson nodded. “She looks just like Lisa, although she has my eyes. Acts like Lisa, too, bold and enthusiastic and-“ The warmth spreading through him at his own words was an entirely unfamiliar sensation. Alex’s eyes were twinkling as they watched him, and Jackson felt a tad self-conscious.

“They’ve gone back to Miami?” Alex inquired.

“Yes. I’m planning to go there, too, after this.” Jackson met Alex’s eyes steadily. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. The Lutz job was my last. If I want to be with Lisa, I can’t do this anymore.”

Alex blinked. “You’re really serious about having a family.”

“I’m in love with her,” Jackson admitted. “And I intend to do whatever it takes to keep her. I’m not going to lose her now that I’ve finally seen her again.”

“I take it she feels the same?” At the younger man’s nod, Alex chuckled. “I’m glad. I could see it on her face all those years ago; she didn’t want to leave you here. And I don’t think you wanted to let her, but you’ve always been incurably stubborn.”

Jackson shot Alex a glare, and the older man smirked.

“I wanted to tell you in person, Alex,” Jackson said finally “We’ve worked together a long time.”

Alex smiled. “Yes, we have. And I am most fortunate to count you as a colleague… and a friend. That latter part doesn’t have to change, you know.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t bother you, me… leaving the business?”

The other man shook his head. “No. I’ll miss your expertise, to be sure, but if this is what you want, Jackson, then I want you to go for it. And my door is always open, to you and to your family.”

Jackson inclined his head, knowing Alex would read in his expression what he couldn’t put into words.

“We have the wrong drink for this occasion,” Alex asserted, getting to his feet and disappearing around a corner. He returned moments later with two small glasses and a bottle of scotch. When they each had a drink in hand, he held his towards Jackson. “I think congratulations are in order.”

Jackson smirked, tipping his glass against Alex’s. “Thanks.” It was excellent scotch, not that Alex would have anything less, and it slid down his throat with soothing warmth.

“So what-“ Alex began, setting his glass on the table with a light thump. “Does Kaylie have to do with all of this, or were you just bringing her home? Not that I’m complaining,” he tacked on, his smile fond.

“She doesn’t know why I brought her with me,” Jackson admitted. “I just said I wanted her to come and she agreed.”

Alex looked at him curiously. “So?”

 

\------------

 

_Monday, August 1 st._

It had only been two weeks since Kaylie had last had a one-on-one dinner with Alex in his house, but it felt like an eternity. So much had happened since then. Lisa, Samantha, the incident in New York, Lutz’s death, Jackson’s decision to leave his work behind to be with the woman he loved. He had departed earlier that day, heading first back to New York and then on to Miami in a couple of days to see Lisa and Samantha. Kaylie hoped things would work out for the three of them, and also that she’d get to see them again before too long.

“Jackson and I had an interesting discussion the night you arrived.” Alex interrupted her musings. “And I’m curious to get your thoughts.”

Kaylie glanced up from her food. “Oh?”

“He expressed to me his belief that you shouldn’t continue to work for me,” Alex continued, taking Kaylie completely by surprise. “And, I have to admit, he might have a point.” 

“What?” Kaylie spluttered.

“This has nothing to do with how either of us views you as an employee,” Alex reassured her, predictably knowing what she was thinking. “I have been nothing but pleased with your work, and I’ve loved having you as part of the team. Jackson was concerned by what happened in New York, that you ended up in the middle of a dangerous situation.”

“Oh.” Kaylie had recounted the entire saga of events to Alex a couple of days previously. She strongly suspected he’d already heard most of it from Jackson. “Those were kind of unusual circumstances, though. And I was only trying to help.”

“I know.” Alex smiled. “And you did. But I confess that neither of us is entirely comfortable with you in any kind of work that might put you at risk.”

That wasn’t what Kaylie had expected. She could understand Alex’s concern; he was like a father to her, these days. But Jackson? Sure, she knew that Jackson cared about her in his own, Jackson-y way, but she didn’t imagine he expended all that much energy thinking about her safety. “We talked about this when I started,” she reminded Alex. “You’ve always kept me out of the dangerous situations and the unpleasant details. What happened in New York isn’t typical.”

“That is true,” he allowed. “But there is risk inherent in any part of this line of work, and I think you know that. And it isn’t only that you were in danger in New York, but also what you were required to do to protect yourself.”

That struck a chord with Kaylie. The memory of shooting Lutz played through her mind frequently, along with the knowledge that she could have killed him. Would have, perhaps, if he’d kept coming and hadn’t shot her first.

“There are so many things you could do with your life, Kaylie,” Alex said. “You owe it to yourself to think about them. I think we both know that you aren’t destined for this business forever, and I certainly don’t want you to stay out of a sense of loyalty to me.” He smiled. “Maybe this is as good a time as any for a change. We’ll always be family, no matter what.”

Kaylie met his eyes. She could tell he meant every word. She was profoundly aware, not for the first time, that she was extraordinarily lucky to have Alex in her life. “I suppose you’re right,” she conceded. “I’ve always been aware that there was only so far I could go, working for you, before I’d have to get into things that I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready for.” He nodded understandingly. “It probably makes sense for me to start exploring some other possibilities. But are you really sure?” She frowned. “First you lose Jackson, now me, too?”

Alex chuckled. “I’ll be alright. To be honest, the idea of retirement is beginning to look very attractive. Not quite yet, perhaps, but soon. I’d kind of like to own a house on the beach, preferably somewhere with water warmer than Great Britain’s.”

They shared a laugh.

“It’ll be weird if you leave London,” Kaylie admitted. “I mean, I suppose I could move somewhere else, too, but I don’t really know where.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere for a while yet,” Alex replied. “And you’ll always have a home wherever I am. But,” he stood, retrieving something from the nearby counter. “If you’re open to a move away from London, you might consider this.”

Kaylie accepted the envelope. Opening the flap, she found inside a set of keys, a keycard and a folded note. She raised an eyebrow at Alex, who simply shrugged. She opened the note, immediately recognizing the handwriting.

_Kaylie,_

_Thought you might like a place to stay in New York, since I won’t be using it. Especially seeing as I cut your last trip short. The doorman knows to expect you._

_JR_

Kaylie’s eyes flew to Alex. “Jackson left me the keys to his apartment?”

Alex smiled.

“Holy shit.” She exhaled heavily. “Why didn’t he give this to me before he left?” She wondered, then laughed. “He was probably afraid I’d try to hug him.” Alex smirked. “So he’s really moving to Miami?”

“It would seem that way.”

Kaylie sighed. “Wow. Okay. Well, I guess I have a lot to think about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! In the end, this fic turned out a bit differently than I'd initially planned. It definitely gets a bit fluffy, but I couldn't resist the temptation to give Jackson and Lisa a happy ending... at least for now, you never know with these two! Thanks to everyone who came along for the ride, it's been fun!

_“Where’s your male-driven, fact-based logic now, Jack? I don’t think that’s what got you here."_

_-Lisa Reisert_

 

_Thursday, August 4 th. Miami._

Lisa had moved since the last time Jackson had been to her apartment, almost five years earlier. He supposed that made sense, her previous place had only been a one bedroom. He’d found the complex easily; it wasn’t terribly far from the airport, and it appeared that his knowledge of the Miami streets had remained relatively intact. Which was probably a good thing, if he was planning to stay here. Lisa had been reluctant to move Samantha away from her grandfather, at least so soon and while the girl was so young. He’d agreed to it more readily than he’d perhaps expected. Leading him here, to Lisa’s front step.

The door swung open, and there she was.

“Hey,” Lisa greeted him softly, stepping aside to let him pass.

“Hi.” Once inside and relieved of his luggage, Jackson caught her hand in his and pulled her close, dropping a kiss to her lips. He’d really missed doing that. A pattering of feet drew his attention to the small form that raced down the hallway and skidded to a stop in front of him, promptly attaching herself to his leg. Jackson blinked down at the top of Samantha’s head. He knew that Lisa had explained some things to the four year old while he’d been settling his affairs in New York and London; he hadn’t been expecting such an enthusiastic welcome. Lisa, sensing his discomfort, squeezed his hand and offered him an encouraging smile. Sammy thankfully released him before he could work out how he was supposed to respond, grinning up at him and then racing off again.

Lisa smiled after her. “She’s really excited you’re here.”

Jackson snorted. “I can’t imagine why.”

Lisa shot him a look. “You’re her dad, Jackson. She knows that’s important, even if it’s going to take _both_ of you a little while to figure out what exactly that means.”

As if recognizing he needed additional reassurance – or maybe she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her – she kissed him again, letting her lips linger over his own. Then she smiled and tugged on his hand, pulling him further into the apartment.

 

\------------ 

 

It had been late in the day when Jackson had arrived, and the rest of the evening passed quickly. Lisa had been spot-on about Samantha’s excitement, and it took quite a while for the little girl to wind down to sleep. Which was how Jackson found himself on the couch next to Lisa, a pajama-clad four-year old finally dozing off in her lap as Lisa read a bedtime story. It was the kind of domesticated scenario Jackson had never experienced in his life – maybe when _he_ was four, with his own mother, but he honestly couldn’t remember. He found it was a lot more enjoyable than he might have guessed. The warm, soothing tones of Lisa’s voice were encouraging him towards sleep, too. To be fair, he’d been doing a lot of traveling lately.

Lisa finished the story and looked down at Samantha, sound asleep in her arms. “I should put her to bed,” she whispered.

“Do you want me to take her?” Jackson offered, surprising himself. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but he might as well start somewhere.

Lisa smiled. She nodded, transferring the girl into Jackson’s waiting arms. Sammy didn’t wake, just snuggled into him with a sigh. Jackson stared down at her. The feeling of his tiny daughter cradled in his arms was an entirely new one, and he was startled to realize that he liked it. Maybe he _could_ get used to this.

Lisa touched his arm, getting his attention, and he followed her out of the living room and down the hall to Samantha’s bedroom. She pulled back the covers, and Jackson laid the little girl on her bed, watching as Lisa tucked her in and brushed her hair back from her forehead. Then she stepped back, slipping her hand into Jackson’s as they watched their daughter sleep.

After a few minutes, they slipped silently from the room. Leaving Sammy’s door partway open, Lisa led Jackson across the hall and into her own bedroom. She shut the door behind them and turned to face him. For a long moment, they just stared at one another. Now that they were finally here, together, _alone_ , their daughter safe and sleeping across the hall, Jackson didn’t want to rush. He wanted to remember every minute.

He reached out a hand and lightly cupped Lisa’s cheek, running his thumb over her cheekbone, her eyelids – as her eyes fluttered closed –, her lips. She stepped forward, arms encircling his waist, and tipped her chin up to press her lips to his. What started out tentative and gentle quickly grew in urgency, as his tongue slipped past her teeth and her warm hands untucked his shirt, brushing against his skin. She started on the buttons, and he interrupted her to pull her own top off over her head, dropping it to the floor. He kissed her again, running his hands up her sides, as she undid his last button and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. His t-shirt went next and Lisa ran her hand over his chest, tracing the scars from his bullet wounds with the tip of her finger. Her brow furrowed and he encircled her with his arms, relishing in the glorious feeling of skin on skin.

“I love you, Lisa Reisert,” he whispered emphatically in her ear.

She smiled up at him, the frown dissolving completely. “And I love you, Jackson Rippner.”

He swept her off her feet, smirking at her shriek of surprise as he carried her bridal style to the bed and lightly tossed her upon it.

Sleeping could wait.

 

\------------

 

Epilogue

 

_Thursday, December 22 nd. Miami._

Kaylie pulled into a quiet suburban street in the outskirts of Miami. The house was a traditional Floridian style and the property beautiful, with colorful flowers to each side of the front steps and palm trees lining the street. Kaylie had barely climbed out of her rental car into the warm December weather, when the banging of a screen door and an excited shriek preceded a small body hurtling towards her across the lawn. Kaylie bent down as Samantha reached her, sweeping the giggling four year old up into a hug.

“Hey Sammy,” she greeted the little girl. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too!” The girl replied, beaming at her with brilliant blue eyes and a wide smile.

“Samantha!” Kaylie glanced up to find Jackson in the partially open doorway, looking mildly displeased and utterly domesticated in jeans and a t-shirt. She crossed the grass to the door, his daughter still in her arms. “You know you’re not supposed to go outside without permission,” he reminded his daughter, stepping aside to let Kaylie in through the doorway.

“Sorry, daddy.” Samantha grinned at her father, then wriggled out of Kaylie’s arms and took off like a shot further into the house. Jackson rolled his eyes.

“Hi,” he offered then, as Kaylie smiled at him and replied in kind. “Any trouble finding us?”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “The built in GPS is amazing. If I ever buy a car, it had better have one of those.”

Jackson smirked as they stepped further into the house. Kaylie glanced around. For only having moved in less than two months ago, they appeared to be settled in. “Well, you probably don’t need one in New York. How is New York?”

“Good!” She smiled. “Busy. Cold. The apartment is great by the way, so thanks for that.”

He inclined his head. “It’s no trouble.”

A clattering announced Samantha’s return, this time with her mother in tow.

“Kaylie!” Lisa exclaimed, throwing her arms around the younger woman, as Samantha wove between their legs. “It’s so good to see you! How was your flight?”

“Short and uneventful,” Kaylie replied, hugging Lisa back.

“I’m all about uneventful plane rides,” Lisa quipped, and Jackson huffed a laugh. “I’m so glad you’re here, Kaylie. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” Sammy chimed in, peering up at the two women from where she was still sandwiched between them.

Kaylie grinned down at the little girl, and then glanced first to Lisa, then Jackson. “Merry Christmas.”

 

\------------ 

 

Jackson was in the kitchen, making a start on dinner preparations. He had more of a chance and excuse to cook these days, one of the perks of feeding a family of three and not traveling constantly. It helped that he also had a bit of time on his hands, at the moment, as he wasn’t currently working. He had decided to give himself a year to settle in to all of the other numerous changes in his life, and _then_ he’d start thinking about a new career. Lisa had somehow succeeded in convincing him to host Christmas in their recently purchased house. She had a way of talking him into things, but – as had happened frequently over the past few months – Jackson was coming around to the idea that he might not mind the holiday as much as he’d dreaded. The bright smile on Sammy’s face when they’d told her that Kaylie was coming made it feel worthwhile. Joe would be joining them, too, and Alex, who would arrive tomorrow, one day ahead of Christmas Eve. Jackson hadn’t seen him since August, and the Irishman still hadn’t met Samantha. For a brief terrifying moment, Jackson had wondered if Lisa would suggest he consider contacting his mother, but perhaps she’d realized that was more than he was prepared to take on just now. He had a feeling it would come up at some point.

Footsteps preceded Kaylie joining him in the kitchen; she had briefly disappeared to unpack. Lisa had taken Samantha outside to run off some steam before dinner.

“Need any help?” She offered.

He shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

Kaylie leaned against the counter. “You know, you never responded to any of my texts asking what I owe you for rent.”

He glanced at her, and then back down to the vegetables he was chopping. “That’s because you’re not paying me rent.”

He could see her bewildered expression from the corner of his eye. “Jackson, I’m living in your apartment.”

“Yes, I’m aware. But I’m not exactly using it.”

“But you could be renting it,” she countered. “A nice apartment in New York City – you could make a fortune.”

He smirked. “Are you trying to convince me to evict you?”

“No, I’m trying to convince you to let me pay you.”

“Kay-lie!” They were interrupted by Samantha’s appearance at the backdoor, her hair mussed and cheeks flushed from running around outside. “You hafta come see my new swing set!”

They both smiled at her, as Kaylie replied. “I’ll be right there, Sammy. Two minutes, okay?”

“Okay!” Samantha cheered and raced back out into the yard.

Kaylie turned back to Jackson, who had moved to fully face her. “No, I’m not going to let you pay me.” He pressed on before she could open her mouth. “New York is expensive and you’re saving up to go back to school.” He knew from Alex that Kaylie had applied to law school for the next fall. She had picked up some kind of job in New York in the interim. “Besides, Kaylie, you don’t owe me anything.” And it was true. After everything she’d been through – everything he’d _put_ her through – Jackson honestly thought it was the least he could do.

She stared at him for a long moment. Whatever she found in his expression seemed to satisfy her, as she nodded. “Okay.” Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

Jackson groaned. “Seriously?”

Kaylie snickered. “You brought this on yourself.” She released him then, looking up to meet his eyes. “Seriously, though, thank you.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“Kay-LIE!” Samantha shrieked from the back door.

“She’s coming, Sammy,” Jackson told his daughter. “Relax.”

Kaylie smirked at Jackson. She stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, and then darted out the door after Samantha before he could respond. He rolled his eyes as the door banged shut behind them.

He turned back to dinner preparations, but found his gaze drifting to the window. He could see Samantha leading Kaylie around her swing set, as Lisa watched from a short distance away. The ring sparkling on his fiancée’s finger, visible even from where he stood, served a reminder of the date they had set for the upcoming spring, of the commitment he was making and of the new life he was building for himself. The new life he was building with Lisa and Samantha. Lisa turned, catching his eye through the window. She grinned at him and Jackson found himself smiling back. Samantha shrieked with excitement as Kaylie chased her in circles around the yard and, for the first time in his life, Jackson felt that he truly had a family.


End file.
